


How to Save a Life

by WeHateTheCW



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20, AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bi Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel is a gay disaster, Dean Lives, Dean is a mess, Dean loves Cas back, Dean missed the nail, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, First Kiss, Fix-It, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miracle the dog, POV Dean, Past Relationship(s), Sam and Eileen deserved better, Slow Burn, Swearing, canon compliant up to 15x20, minor claire/kaia, no beta we die like men, pov Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeHateTheCW/pseuds/WeHateTheCW
Summary: I think we can all agree that the SPN writers did us dirty with the finale. In fact, I was so dissatisfied with it that I chose to rewrite it instead of doing school work. This is the result :)Title comes from the song "How to Save a Life" by the Fray - it's basic I know.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte
Comments: 75
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written, so be gentle with me plz

They did it. Sam and Dean had finally did it. They defeated Chuck. Everything they had ever done, their whole lives, had led up to this moment. The creation kills the creator. The story rejects its author. It felt almost poetic in Dean’s mind. And though they didn’t really kill Chuck, seeing him lying there on the ground - broken, defeated, powerless – it restored something in Dean that he never knew was broken.

And on top of that, Jack was able to fill the vacancy in Chuck’s absence, having been able to vacuum up all his godly power. Dean could tell that it changed him. When he looked at Jack, he could almost sense this aura around him, both physically and metaphorically. He wasn’t a scared kid anymore, trying to find his morality. Jack was the new freakin’ Almighty, whether he liked the title or not. Dean understood that he had a renewed sense of purpose and duty, so while seeing him walk away hurt, he also knew it was the right thing to do. Knowing that Jack was out there watching over the world would help him sleep a little better at night.

The whole drive home, Dean didn’t stop smiling.

As soon as they got back to the bunker, with their new dog Miracle in tow, they started making calls. Sam pulled out his laptop and face-timed Eileen first – to no one’s surprise - and Dean saw a tear roll down his cheek when she answered after only a couple of rings. Dean didn’t know Eileen nearly as well as Sam did, but he saw the way they looked at each other, the way they interacted. It was something he hadn’t seen in Sam since Jessica died. Even if Sam didn’t know it yet, Dean already knew that his little brother was head-over-heels in love with Eileen, and as long as Sam considered her family, he would too. 

Something dull ached inside him at the sight of them signing together, something he didn’t quite want to put his finger on. So, Dean chose to ignore it, and instead took it upon himself to call everyone else – Jody, Donna, Charlie, Bobby, Garth. Each time one of them picked up, he’d send a thumbs-up Sam’s way - who was still talking with Eileen - and each time his smile would get a little bigger. Dean will never admit to it, but he almost started crying too when every single one of them picked up, safe and unharmed.

So, after an hour of talking with all their friends, Sam and Dean kicked back, and partook in one of their favorite ways to celebrate a win – having a cheap beer.

Dean practically skipped his way into the kitchen and pulled open their huge industrial fridge, looking over their selection of the finest crappy beers that Kansas had to offer.

“Whaddaya think, Miller or Adams?” Dean asked.

“Sam Adams of course, it’s got my name written all over it.” Sam joked back at him as he made his way into the kitchen.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh, “If Chuck being gone means I have to deal with more of your crappy jokes, maybe it’d be worthwhile to reinstate him as top dog…”

And so, the night continued on like that, the two of them sitting there, sharing those drinks with each other and telling more crappy jokes than either of them had in years. Dean felt good, he felt great, but the situation itself felt almost… surreal. They never had time to relax like this - to have their cake and eat it too. The past 15 years of their lives had been nothing but hollow victory after hollow victory, killing the big-bads only to have something bigger and badder pop up. They never had time to sit back and celebrate because their wins were never final – they always still had work to do. Relaxation was a luxury they couldn’t afford (even with Charlie’s unlimited credit cards).

But for the first time in his life Dean wasn’t worrying about what came next, because for the first time in his life, nobody knew the answer. Since day he was born, even before he was born, God was pulling the strings. Every messy, traumatic, fucked-up thing that he and Sam ever experienced was Chuck, messing with their lives to get his rocks off. For his entertainment. Just thinking about it almost made Dean sick. It was always Chuck, planning every move they ever made, deciding how they lived, how they died, how they freakin wiped their asses. But now there’s no one. Jack’s out there somewhere, keeping things in balance, but as he said, he’s “hands off.” There’s no one puppeteering the brothers and deciding their story. Now, Sam and him get to decide the story.

After a couple more hours of drinking, laughing, and telling jokes, Sam and Dean came to the mutual conclusion that they were very nearly drunk, and should probably call it a night unless they wanted to wake up with monster headaches the next morning. Dean collected all their empty bottles and deposited them in the recycling, much to Sam’s delight – as Sam once said, “it doesn’t matter how many times we save the world Dean, if we don’t take care of the environment, the apocalypse is gonna come anyway!” Dean was stubborn about it at first, mostly just to annoy his little brother, but he eventually gave in to Sam’s tree-hugging ways.

After everything was all cleaned up, they said goodnight to each other and began on their way to their respective rooms.

Right before he turned however, Dean reached out to Sam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey man,” he said, as Sam turned back and looked at him. Dean just stared at him for a moment as a little smile crept across his face.

“We did it”

And that was all he needed to say. A small smile broke out on Sam’s face too, and Dean stood on his toes to pull him in for a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders like he always did. It didn’t matter how many times they hugged; Dean would still feel a little bitter over how much taller his baby brother grew to be over him.

“Yeah,” Sam said a few moments later as he pulled away. They looked each other in the eyes, and Dean saw the relieved smile on his face and slight glossiness of his eyes. “Yeah, we did.”

They both gave each other another brotherly pat on the shoulder for good measure before they finally parted ways for their own bedrooms.

Miracle followed him all the way to bathroom while he brushed his teeth, and ended up following him all the way back to his room too, where he hoped on the bed with Dean as he was getting settled in. Dean had never been much of a dog-person, or even a pet-person in general, but Miracle felt like just that to him – a miracle. When he first laid eyes on that shaggy dog, after everyone else in the world had disappeared, Dean had felt something close to hope for the first time in a long time. After that (well, after Chuck Thanos-snapped him and Jack brought him back), the dog practically refused to leave his side, and Dean didn’t have a single complaint. I mean yeah, maybe he smelled a little and maybe he shed a lot, but Sam shed a lot too, so it was nothing he couldn’t tolerate.

Dean pulled the covers up over him and Miracle snuggled into his side as he laid down to go to sleep. He drew in a long breath and let out a deep sigh, thinking that for the first time in a long time, he might get a good night’s rest. But of course, instead of falling into a wondrous slumber as he had hoped, Dean started thinking instead. Damn his brain.

Chuck was defeated. Everyone is back. Jack was looking out for them and the whole world. Him and Sam are free. And as the cherry on top, they now have an awesome dog too. Dean should feel happy, ecstatic even. He should be dancing on the roof and partying until the sun comes up.

But he wasn’t happy. Of course, he was grateful for all they had accomplished, and he was relieved that they were finally free, but he wasn’t quite happy. Contentedness is closer to what he felt. He would be happy if he had gotten everything that he wanted, but he hadn’t. Dean had gotten almost everything he wished for. 

And just like that, the dull ache he felt earlier when he saw Sam and Eileen was back, filling his chest. It spread across his body, stemming from the almost, the little part of him that was still missing. His last wish, still unfulfilled. It felt like a little hole in his chest, small in size but big enough to hurt like hell. A hole in the shape of an awkward 5’11” angel wearing a dirty trench coat and a backwards tie.

Cas

As soon as his name came to Dean’s head, the dull ache in his chest immediately morphed into a searing pain. Dean didn’t want to think about Cas. He didn’t want to think about him, with tears in his eyes and a happy smile on his face. Saying those words, those three little words that turned his whole world upside down, I love y-

No. Dean wasn’t going to think about that. He couldn’t think about that.

As soon as Cas made his… confession, and was promptly taken by the Empty, Dean made a decision. He couldn’t deal with all that, not yet. Everyone in the world was gone, and God was still loose out there waiting to kill them. Dean couldn’t allow himself to be emotionally compromised, he couldn’t break down just yet. He needed to be strong for Jack and Sam, and they needed to deal with Chuck.

So, he did what he does best – he shoved all his emotions, all his feelings in a little box and locked them away in the deepest corners of his mind, so far down he couldn’t reach them. Hell, if there’s one thing the Winchesters have consistently done well throughout their lives, it’s repressing their emotions, and in no way was Dean going to stop now. He tried to justify this to himself by saying it could wait, that he could hold out until Chuck was defeated to unpack it all and deal with everything Cas had said. Once Chuck was gone, he’d allow himself to feel it. But he was just lying to himself – another thing that Winchesters did exceptionally well. He didn’t want to deal with it then, and he certainly doesn’t want to deal with it now.

Dean knows that if he did, he’d fall apart.

So, the next morning Dean threw himself back into hunting – the one surefire thing to help him ignore the noise in his head and the ache in his heart. He spent the morning and the better part of the afternoon online, scouring the internet for reports of ghost sightings, heartless corpses, or bloodless bodies – anything that would get him out of the bunker and out of his head. Hell, he’d even consider alien abductions if it meant he could just hop in the impala and start driving already. 

Throughout the day he could sense Sam throwing concerned looks his way and glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Dean knew that Sam could tell something was up with him. He always could. Dean chose to ignore his brother’s worried looks however, and thankfully Sam didn’t say anything. As good as the brothers were at emotional repression, they were equally as good at detecting when the other was repressing something, Sam especially. 

By midafternoon, Dean had picked up on a trail of murders in Taos, New Mexico that have so far been inexplicable to the local police, but seemed right up Sam and Dean’s alley. Three dead women in three months, all practically torn to shreds, the key aspect being that their hearts were missing. And just like that, barely a day after they left Chuck lying there in the dirt, they were already back on the road again, heads filled with meaningless thoughts and a trunk filled with silver bullets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw shit here we go again

They continued on like this for weeks. Dean would look for leads online, they’d be gone for a few days on the hunt, come back to the bunker, and start the cycle over again. Ghosts, ghouls, vamps, wendigoes – anything that he could get his hands on and gank. Hunting had always been cathartic for Dean. It allowed him a certain amount of tunnel vision – kill the monster, save some people, and try to look cool doing it. That was all there was to it. He didn’t have to deal with any of his own problems or emotions because they just got in the way. You can’t save the people who are really in trouble if you’re stuck wallowing in the memories of all the people you couldn’t save…

Which was another reason Dean enjoyed hunting so much – it helped him forget.

Besides wasting the evil sons of bitches, putting on the persona was his next favorite part of the job. He could leave himself behind and become someone else for a while. The suave FBI agent, a   
smooth-talking detective, or a womanizing news reporter. He could forget all about the problems of Dean Winchester when he was pretending to be Special Agent Hamill, on the hunt for a serial killer. But none of those things really felt like him, at least not anymore. Maybe ten years ago he wouldn’t have had to act to come off as cocky and flirty, but so much has changed in ten years. Dean’s not the same person anymore, and feeling like someone he’s not is far better than feeling like himself. Especially when all his feelings hurt so freakin’ much.

Over the past few weeks, the high he had gotten from defeating Chuck had started to wear off, and in its place the dull ache he had been feeling began to grow. It spread from his chest to his arms and legs, creeping along until it encased him from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet. There wasn’t anything actually physically wrong with him, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell. He knew the reason he was feeling this way was because of Cas, because he died, because he died for Dean, because of what he confessed right before he did it-

Dean never knew he could feel longing so physically until he started feeling that damned ache.

He knew that Sam could sense something was wrong with him. Dean could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at him when he thought Dean wasn’t paying attention, the way he looked concerned every time Dean brought up a new hunt. It was written all over his face. Sam had asked him a few times if he was doing okay, but he just responded with his usual “yeah, I’m fine,” and sent a glare his brother’s way that deterred him from pressing on further. Dean knew that his inner turmoil was causing Sam some amount of stress too, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. Whatever slight concern he was feeling couldn’t possibly compare to the ocean of grief that was being held back by the floodgates Dean had built in his mind.

But hey, it was nothing another hunt couldn’t help him ignore, right?

~~~

After a particularly messy run in with a pair of shape-shifters, Same and Dean arrived back at the bunker barely in one piece. They were both covered practically head to toe in mud, their clothes stunk like public restrooms from chasing the damn things through the sewers, and Dean was sure he had a bruised rib from one of shifters throwing him against a pipe. Sam had his fair share of battle scars too. There was a nasty cut under his left eye, but it was nothing a stitch or two and a bandage couldn’t fix.

By the time they reached the bottom of the entryway stairs, Miracle was already there, tail wagging and paws tapping. Apparently, he couldn’t wait to get a whiff of all the new scents that Sam and Dean were trailing around the place. He rubbed up on Sam’s legs for a few seconds before making his way over to Dean, running circles around him and nearly making the hunter trip over him.

“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too buddy,” Dean said as he bent down to give Miracle some pets to the head. Dean might not openly admit it, but he would kill for that dog. Without hesitation.

Dean spent a good hour in the shower, scrubbing away at all the mud and tirelessly trying to get rid of the toilet smell. He thought it worked, because Miracle didn’t seem to be nearly as interested in him as he was before. He then gave himself a once-over in the mirror, cataloguing all his bruises and scratches and making sure there was nothing too nasty. Thankfully everything seemed to be superficial and would probably be gone in a few days. His right side was quite purple though, and he made a mental note not to sleep on that side tonight.

Once he deemed himself decent, Dean made his way to the kitchen to grab a beer before popping open his laptop to search for more leads on possible cases. Logically he knew it wasn’t healthy to continue this cycle – research, hunt, research, hunt, research, hunt – with barely any breaks, but Dean’s mind wasn’t running on logic right now. In fact, there were very few times when it had. Right now, his mind was motivated by ignoring and forgetting.

After a little while Sam walked into the kitchen too, hair still damp from the shower. Dean figured he nearly spent 2 hours in the damn thing, working through his one hundred step hair-care routine trying to restore his muddy mane to its former glory. 

“Whatcha up to?” he asked, as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and headed to take a seat himself.

“The usual,” Dean responded, “scouring the corners of the web for anything that seems like our kind of crazy,” he said in his typical joking manner.

Sam stopped dead in his tracks on the way to the kitchen table, “Dude, really?” he asked.

Dean looked up from the laptop at his little brother, confusion on his face. “What?”

“We quite literally just got back from another hunt, and you’re already looking for another one? I think we need a break Dean, we're both exhausted,” Sam said seriously as he continued on his way to the kitchen table, taking a seat across from the other man.

“Yeah, well maybe you are, but I’ve got killer stamina” Dean said with a wink as he looked away from his brother’s concerned face and back at the web pages he had pulled up. He had actually picked up a pretty good lead just as Sam walked in. “Chuck might be out of commission, but there’s still evil out there. Monsters don’t rest, and neither should we Sammy.”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh and Dean could almost hear the eye roll that went with it. “Okay first of all that’s not true, we’ve wasted plenty of monsters that have long hibernation periods- “

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. Good ol’ Sam, always with the technicalities.

“-and second, you’ve been doing this for weeks. Throwing yourself into hunt after hunt, barely sleeping, barely eating. Ninety percent of your diet is alcohol now, compared to its usual seventy percent. I didn’t want to bring it up because I hoped you might just snap out of it on your own, but it looks like that obviously isn’t going to happen. I’m starting to get really worried, man” he finished. Dean could hear the genuine concern in his brother’s voice, but that didn’t stop him from starting to get annoyed with Sam’s prying.

“Look dude, I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I’m fine,” He replied, becoming more bothered by the second from this whole conversation. Dean could’ve gone a good long while more without dealing with his baggage, but Sam just finally had to bring it up.

“No, Dean, you’re not. I know what you’re doing,” Sam said with a knowing look on his face.

Dean could feel his agitation starting to boil over. He snapped the laptop closed so he could give his nagging little brother his full attention. “Oh yeah? And what exactly is it that I’m doing?” 

“You’re avoiding, Dean! I know you better than anyone, this is a time-old tradition of yours. You drown yourself in hunts so you don’t have to deal with your own problems,” Sam answered, his voice beginning to raise with his frustration.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I’m feeling!” Dean spat back. The fact that Sam was right just made him more irritated.

Sam scoffed at him, “Oh don’t be so sure. You’ve barely said a single word about Jack since he left, much less Cas.”

Dean nearly erupted at the sound of his name.

“Hell, I’m not even really sure how he died!” Sam continued. “You won’t say anything Dean, and it’s gotta be weighing on you. I know it’s weighing on me.”

Sam was right. He hit the nail on the head. But Dean already knew that, he already knew he was repressing himself and ignoring his grief over Cas’ death, which just made him madder. Sam spewing everything Dean already knew about himself back into his face as if it was some sort of revelation, as if it would change anything. Dean knew what he was doing, he didn’t need his little brother dissecting him.

After a few moments Dean was able to internally calm himself down so he could carry on the conversation without fists. “Look, we don’t have time for this right now. I picked up on a lead while you were caring for your precious locks. There’s a family – dad stabbed, mom had her tongue cut out, and the two kids are missing. And the sketch she drew of the suspects looks remarkably similar to something dad drew in his journal. So, let’s forgo the therapy session, huh? People’s lives are stake.”

Sam didn’t have anything to say back to that. He just stared frustrated at his older brother and took an aggressive swig from his water bottle.

“Fine.”

“Good,” Dean replied. He packed up his laptop and headed for the kitchen door.

“Pack your duffel. We leave first thing in the morning.”

And that was the end of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you guys think so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna ask the spn writers one question: why clown vampires? Of ALL things?

The drive out felt strained the whole way. The brothers barely said a word to each other apart from what they had to. You could practically cut the tension with a knife. Dean was still reeling from the conversation the day before. Sam’s words had kept him up almost the whole night, along with thoughts of Cas, back and stronger than ever before. Even Miracle could tell that something was up, lying extra close to Dean that night and whimpering every time he let a tear unwillingly roll down his cheek. All in all, he only got a couple hours of fitful sleep, so he really needed to pull himself together before they came face to face with their monster of the week.

Once they reached their destination, they went through the usual motions, tossing on their monkey suits and whipping out their badges. They ended up confirming that it was definitely the same culprits as the ones John had described in his journal all those years ago, and before they knew it, they had one of the masked freaks strapped to a chair and squealing like a pig. 

~~~

Sam and Dean had ended up finding the nest of clown-vamps rather quickly, and were currently battling it out with the monsters. The kids were out there in the woods somewhere, and hopefully they had found their way to the impala, but Dean couldn’t really bring himself to focus on that when there was a fang-freak trying to bite his head off. Sam was currently hashing it out with two of them, one who was even bigger than him – do you know how abnormally large a person has to be to be taller than Sam? – but it seemed like he was holding his own. So, dean turned his mind back to his own tango partner, trying not to trip over Jenny’s decapitated head in the process.

“I bet you guys are some ugly sons-a-bitches under those masks,” Dean remarked before charging straight for the vampire and colliding with his body.

But the dude was bigger than him – not to mention supernaturally strong – and able to push him back easy. The freak practically picked Dean up as he pushed him straight towards the support beam behind them.

Wait. Dean had noticed that beam when they first walked in. There was a nasty piece of rusty rebar sticking out from it, right at chest level. He even made a mental note as he walked in to keep a safe distance from that thing. If he kept letting the vamp push him back like he was now, he’d hit the beam and the rebar would go straight through his-

Dean changed the angle of his body at the last second before he hit the post. In an instant he was slammed up against the thing, head smacking back against the beam, and the rebar going clean through him. A searing white-hot pain shot straight through his right shoulder, momentarily blinding Dean with its intensity. He could feel the ache in the back of his head, and the squeeze of the vamp’s hands around his neck as he tried to throttle him, but they were nothing compared to the burning agony that he was feeling in his shoulder. Dean knew the wound was serious, and he could tell that it also just might be lethal too. 

The thought of bringing himself to move felt like an impossible task at the moment. But if he didn’t move, he would definitely be dead. The good thing about being choked out was that his opponent’s hands were occupied, while Dean’s were entirely free. His right arm – which he currently couldn’t move due to his shoulder situation – was holding the machete. He quickly switched the weapon to his left hand below the freak’s line of vision, and in one swift motion brought it to and through his neck, taking his head clean off. The hands slackened around his neck and the decapitated body fell to the floor with a thud, as blood gushed from the wound and splattered all over him. Dean was no longer having his trachea crushed, but the movement of his body still hurt like hell, and Dean let out a growl from the excruciating pain.

After a few moments, Sam had finished off his attackers too, heads rolling away like macabre bowling balls. He let out some heavy breaths and pushed his hair back away from his face like he always did after he finished a fight, and made his way over to where Dean was standing – or more accurately, being held up against his will.

“Alright,” Sam huffed out as he took a look around for any straggling blood suckers. “Now we gotta go find those kids…” he said, but his sentence trailed off as soon as he looked over and noticed Dean’s shoulder. Dean saw the switch flip in Sam’s head when realized how badly he was injured, and a look of horror quickly spread across his little brother’s face.

“Dean?” he practically whimpered, and his machete clattered to the floor as he quickly made his way over to the other hunter. Sam went to go put his hands on his shoulders, but instantly realized his mistake and brought them instead to run through his hair. “Oh my god…” were the only words he could conjure up. Dean could see the panic in his eyes.

“Ahh don’t worry about me,” he joked, “’Tis but a scratch,” Dean finished, quoting Monty Python and letting out a choked laugh, which he immediately regretted as it sent a sharp pain through his torso, causing him to wince. The burn he felt in his shoulder had spread from just the puncture to the entirety of his right side, making him feel like he was engulfed in flames. He’d been shot many times before in his line of work, but he thought that this felt ten times worse. With every miniscule move he made, he could feel the rebar scraping against his insides, and sending bolts of pain through his body like lightning. Dean could feel himself slowly but surely starting to fade into unconsciousness, eyelids drooping and limbs growing weak, despite how desperate he was to stay awake.

“Hey. Hey, dean look at me. Look at me,” Sam practically begged. He brought his hands up to cup his brother’s face and force him to meet his eyes. The warmth of his hands was comforting, as he was starting to feel rather cold. Dean noticed the tears welling in Sam’s eyes as he began to speak. “I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? It’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine…” he trailed off, but it sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than he was Dean. He hated to see Sam so scared.

Dean tried to bring himself to respond to his brother’s reassurances, but it was too much effort. Holding his eyes open felt like too much effort…

“I’m gonna try and pull you off this thing, okay?” Sam asked as he braced his hands on his shoulders, sending waves of pain up his arm.

Now that got Dean’s attention.

“Wait, Sam, I don’t think that’s a- “

Sam ignored him. “Three, two, - “

“Sam, WAIT- “

Before he even said one, Sam was already pulling. 

As if Dean’s body wasn’t already hurting enough, the pain he felt tripled. Quadrupled, even. It was so searing he swore he blacked out. It couldn’t have taken Sam more than a few seconds to wrench Dean off the beam, but he felt every agonizing moment of it. He could feel the rebar scrape against every tendon, every fiber of muscle it punctured as he slid off of it. And as if only to make matters worse, he could hear it too, the slick squelch as he was pulled away. Dean let out a sickening scream as his brother managed to finally hoist him completely off the thing, and he practically collapsed into his arms. Dean swore he had never felt more nauseous in his life. 

“C’mon Dean, we gotta go, c’mon…” he could hear Sam saying while he struggled to lift Dean to his feet, but everything was starting to sound all jumbled together and faint in his ears.

Dean somehow managed to put his boots beneath him and start walking, but only because he was leaning eighty percent of his weight on Sam. He had his left arm slung over the taller man’s shoulders, while his right dangled uselessly at his side. Sam put his arm around dean’s waist to hold him up and used his other hand to put pressure against Dean’s wound as they began to hobble out of the decrepit barn. With every step he let out grunts of pain, barely holding himself back from screaming.

Dean felt a warmth start trickling down and spreading over his right side. Blood, he realized. Dean was losing a lot of blood. Too much blood. He didn’t dare look to see it, but he could feel it. He’d become acquainted with the feeling of his own blood-loss over the years. His legs were growing weaker by the second and his vision was blurring…

“Sam…” he said, – sounding weak even to his own ears – just as the shape of the impala came into view.

“Dean?” Sam replied, just as his vision gave out completely and his legs folded beneath him.

His brother yelling “DEAN!” was the last thing he perceived before he gave in to unconsciousness and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that as suspenseful and painful as I was going for? I hope so


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Dean noticed was how exhausted he was. He felt as if he’d been asleep for months.

The next thing Dean noticed was the brightness shining behind his closed eyes.

He let out a sigh, and slowly opened his eyes, trying to adjust to the blinding light above him. His eyelids fluttered a little more before they opened fully, and as his vision began to focus, Dean realized that the brightness was coming from fluorescent ceiling lights. That’s weird, they didn’t use these kinds of lights in the bunker…

Dean tried to move his head around a little bit to take in his surroundings, despite how it felt like his skull weighed a hundred pounds. Upon further inspection, his foggy mind came to the conclusion   
that he was not in the bunker, and that he was in fact in a hospital room. He was lying on a stiff, standard-issue cot with a mint green curtain surrounding him. There was a scratchy blanket covering his lower half, and his top half was naked except for a bandage wound around his right shoulder. What was Dean doing like this in a hospital room…?

The third thing he noticed was the pain.

Oh yeah, the vamp hunt. The rebar. 

In an instant, all the memories came flooding back to him. The skull masks, the barn, Jenny. The most prominent memory being the excruciating pain of being run through the shoulder. The ache he felt now wasn’t nearly as bad as what it had been – probably due to whatever pain meds the doctors were dosing him up with – but it was still uncomfortable, and it hurt like hell. Dean tried to move his right arm some, but the pain grew worse, and it ended up being a fruitless venture. He let out a grunt as a result of the pain, frustration, and exhaustion.

“Dean?” he heard someone say.

He quickly whipped his head to the left and noticed Sam sitting in the chair next to his cot, with a look of surprise on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was wearing the same bloody clothes as before, and his hair looked greasier than he would usually ever allow it to get. All in all, Sam looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Knowing his brother, he probably hadn’t. Sam had probably stayed by Dean’s side the whole time he was out, however long that had been.

The surprise on his face quickly morphed into happy relief, as he realized his brother was awake. “Hey Sammy,” Dean replied, sounding hoarse and feeling like he hadn’t spoken in years.

“Hey!” Sam said back, glee apparent in his voice. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he scooted his chair closer to the cot and laid a hand on Dean’s uninjured arm. “I thought I lost you man,” he continued, smile faltering for just a second.

Dean hated that his brother had been so scared. He knows what that fear feels like, and he hopes that neither of them has to ever feel it again.

He mustered up the strength to respond, “You ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” he said, letting out a light chuckle despite the slight pain it caused.

Sam unwillingly let out a huff of a laugh at his brother’s remark too, looking down for a second and shaking his head. “Yeah, apparently. After all we’ve been through, there’s no way I was letting a rusty nail get the better of you…”

They both remained quiet for a few moments after that, taking in the situation. Dean had a question on his mind, but before he could even ask it, Sam was already answering it.

“You were out for two days after the surgeons patched you up. Those two days were hell, I was so sick worrying about you man… but I talked to the doc earlier, and she said you should make a full recovery.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Good, he thought. 

“She also said that you were extremely lucky. Another inch to the left and that bar would’ve pierced something vital.” Sam continued, and Dean hummed his acknowledgement. 

That fact had shocked Dean. He’d come close to death before – hell, he’d even actually died a handful of times – but this time it somehow felt different. Dean had the gut feeling that if he hadn’t moved his body just right, that if he had died on that rebar, it would’ve been final. That scared him.

But he didn’t want to dwell on that. There were other matters to address.

“And the kids?” Dean questioned, remembering that they existed.

“They’re safe,” Sam replied. “They found the impala after they ran from the barn. On the way into the hospital, I told them to head to the front desk and ask for the police. They’re with their mom now.”

Dean smiled at that. At its core, saving people is what hunting is all about, and seeing that purpose fulfilled always made him feel a little better about the job.

Then Dean noticed again how truly tired he was. His exhaustion was bone-deep, and even just the few sentences of conversation he shared with Sam had drained him of most of his energy. He could feel his eyelids slowly drooping closed as sleep began to crawl closer.

“Alright, get some rest. You need it.” Sam said, noticing Dean’s state. “We can talk more later.”

The last thing he saw before closing his eyes fully was the content smile on his brother’s face, and Dean fell into a peaceful sleep.

~~~

The next time Dean woke, he wasn’t nearly as foggy or confused. Actually, he felt like he had slept better than he had in a long time, despite the remaining ache in his shoulder. But the pain had dulled significantly and he was feeling much better. He was still too tired to get up and about like he normally would, but Dean could tell that he was on the mend. 

Despite how he hated hospitals, he was relieved he had woken up here instead of someplace else...

Then the curtain surrounding his bed was pulled back and his giraffe of a brother walked in, interrupting his thoughts. In one hand he held a Gatorade and some granola bars, and in the other he was holding a cup of coffee.

“Good, you’re awake,” Sam said, a smile on his face as he pulled the curtain closed behind him.

“I really hope that’s for me,” Dean replied, motioning to the coffee with his head. His voice sounded gravelly and unused from all the sleeping.

Sam let out a sarcastic laugh, “Ha, nice try but this is all mine,” he joked as he sat in the chair next to the cot. He set the coffee down and handed the Gatorade and granola bars to Dean. “This however, is all yours. I know how you feel about hospital food so I took a trip to the vending machine.”

Dean accepted the snacks with his uninjured arm, and his stomach let out an eager growl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until his brother walked in with food. In fact, he was starving. If he was really out for as long as Sam said he was, then he hadn’t eaten in two days. Probably more than two days now. And even though he would’ve killed for that coffee, the Gatorade felt like a godsend – or would he say a jacksend now? – on his dry throat, and he downed almost the whole thing in less than 10 seconds. Then, without a pause, Dean tore into the granola bar.

Sam chuckled as he watched his older brother eat like it was the last edible food on earth.

“That hungry, huh?” he joked.

“Famished” Dean replied with a mouth full of granola. If there’s one thing in this world that Sam should be used to by now, it’s his brother’s disgusting eating habits.

“So, while you were out, I called Jody to have her take care of Miracle since we’re probably still not gonna get back to the bunker for a couple days. She says he’s doing great.” Sam commented, taking a sip of his coffee.

Oh good, Dean thought. He’d completely forgotten about the dog in the midst of this whole hospital mess. Thank Jack for Sam, always making sure everything was taken care of. If anything ever happened to that mutt, no one would be safe from Dean’s wrath.

“Though,” Sam continued, “Jody did say that Claire and other girls have grown quite fond of him and that they might have to keep him for good.”

Dean stopped mid-chew and glared at his brother. That was absolutely not an option.

“Don’t worry,” Sam said smiling, noticing Dean’s grim expression. “I told her that you might hunt them down yourself if that ever happened.”

“And you’d be right” he replied, taking another generous bite of his granola bar.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, just being in each other’s company. Dean had been admitted to hospitals many times before, a couple of which he thought he might never leave. So being here with his scratchy blankets and his Gatorade and his ugly mint green curtains, knowing that he was going to be okay – it felt like a moment he should be grateful for. A moment he should enjoy. Who knows, in another world, things could’ve gone completely differently in that barn.

After a little while, Sam spoke up again. “So, how ya feeling?” He asked.

Dean snickered. “Like I’ve been impaled on a rusty pole” he replied, hoping a joke would lighten the mood.

It didn’t. He saw the smile falter on his little brother’s face as he looked down to the floor wringing his hands. In fact, Dean had done the opposite. He had reminded them both of the situation, or more accurately, what the situation could’ve been had that pole hit him an inch closer to the left. 

They both fell into another moment of quiet. This time it wasn’t nearly as comfortable.

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey, Dean,” he said, breaking the silence yet again. “There’s something I wanna talk about.” He raised his head to look Dean in the eyes and Dean saw the serious expression on his face.

“Yeah sure, okay” he responded, dropping his previous joking tone and setting down his food wrappers.

Sam ran his hands through his hair, suddenly looking anxious, as if he didn’t know how to start the conversation he wanted to have.

“Look man,” he said, diverting his eyes to the floor. “When I first saw you in the barn… when – when I saw how hurt you were… I was so scared.” Sam looked back up and Dean saw tears starting to form in his eyes. He was giving Sam his full attention now.

“There was so much blood, and you were so out of it… I honestly thought I was gonna lose you. For good this time.”

Sam took a deep breath. “I knew…” he continued., “I knew that if you died, there wouldn’t be any coming back. No resurrections, no deals, no angels, no demons… you’d just be gone.”

The tears started slipping down his cheeks. Dean hated seeing his little brother so torn. “It almost broke me,” Sam progressed, his voice cracking a bit. Dean could feel his own tears starting to form.

“Our whole lives, Chuck has been devising our every move, deciding the outcome of our lives…,” he wiped his eyes, “…giving us extra luck to make sure we didn’t die stupid deaths. It was all to ensure that we would die when and how he wanted us to. Everything we’ve ever done has been on his terms.”

The way Sam phrased it hit Dean like a ton of bricks.

“But we don’t have that anymore,” he proceeded. “There’s no longer a safety net making sure we don’t get cashed in by things like broken electrical sockets or rusty poles.” Sam let out a bitter chuckle. “We’re normal now. If we die, we stay dead this time. So, when the doctor came to me in the waiting room while you were in the OR, telling me that you were gonna make it, I swear it felt like the happiest moment of my life,” he said, a sad smile gracing his teary face.

Each word Sam spoke made Dean hurt just a little more on the inside.

“While I was sitting by your bedside, waiting for you to wake up, I started thinking…”

Dean’s brows furrowed slightly in anticipation of where this speech was really heading.

“God, Dean, I don’t want to do this anymore.” Sam said, sounding exasperated.

Dean felt his face contort in confusion. “Do what?” he asked, finally speaking up for the first time since the conversation started.

“Hunting,” Sam answered. 

That was honestly not where he thought this was going.

Before Dean even got the chance to reply, Sam was already talking again. “Dean, I’m tired.”

Dean could hear the absolute truth to that statement.

“We’ve been doing this together for so long, we’ve saved so many people… hell, we’ve saved the whole world.” Another sad smile graced his face. “We’ve been up against monsters, demons, angels, and even God himself. We’ve done enough, Dean.” There was newfound resoluteness in his tone.

“I don’t want to keep living this empty life every day until one of us tries to gank the wrong ghost, and suddenly we’re alone again. We can rest now Dean. We deserve to rest.” Sam looked him dead in the eyes, as if he was trying to will Dean to agree with just his mind.

Sam continued after a moment. “I know you probably don’t agree, and I understand… you’ve never been able to sit still knowing that there are people out there getting hurt. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you…” He looked down to the floor, and Dean could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“…but my decision is final.” Sam concluded. He looked back up to his older brother’s face, eyes searching for an answer in his expression. Dean averted his gaze. He didn’t want to clue in Sam to his inner turmoil. He didn’t want him to know how much this conversation was seriously affecting him.

“So?” Sam questioned. He sounded calm on the outside, but Dean could tell that he was anxiously waiting on his answer.

Any other situation, any other year or place, and Dean would’ve been vehemently in disagreement. He would’ve been yelling at Sam, chastising him for thinking so optimistically when there were monsters out there, when there were people that only they could save. How could they possibly rest, knowing what was out there in the shadows? Any other day, and it would’ve been out of the question.

But it wasn’t any other day. It was here, now.

And he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short but sweet :) don't worry, more is on the way

“You’re right,” he replied, both to his brother’s surprise and his own. 

“Wait… what?” Sam responded, looking and sounding utterly confused.

To be honest, Dean didn’t blame him. All his life, ever since his dad had first told him that monsters were real, he’d assumed that he would go out guns blazing. Sam knew that about him too. Dean thought he’d die a hunter’s death, fighting a ghost or a ghoul in some backwater town where no one knew his real name. He accepted it.

Then the brothers lives changed a little bit, and Dean thought it would be a demon, or an angel, or even freakin’ God himself that finally nailed him to his coffin. Not exactly as anticlimactic as he had originally thought, but the death of a hero none the less. A death where he went out fighting to his last breath, trying to save the world and the people he loved.

Then things changed a little more, and Sam and dean were back to square one - fighting monsters. God was powerless, and the only enemies they had left were the ones they chose to hunt. And Dean was back to believing that that would be how he died. Anticlimactic, alone, and undignified, with a vamp’s teeth in his neck or claws in his back. He was content with that ending, or at least that’s what he made himself believe.

In all honesty, Dean didn’t think he deserved anything better. And he much less believed that anything better was possible. Since day one, Dean thought it was always out of the cards for him to have a full life, to live peacefully, and to die old in his sleep. The game was rigged from the start for his life to be tragic. He had resigned himself to that, and never let himself hope for anything better.

But things were different now. When Dean was impaled on that pole, he genuinely thought he might die for good. Just like that. Dean Winchester the demon slayer, monster hunter, and god killer… ganked by some rusty rebar. In hindsight, he realized he felt neither content, accepting, nor resigned – he only felt regret. Regret that he wasn’t better at his job, regret for the people he couldn’t save, regret that he would be leaving Sam alone.

Dean didn’t want to die like that. In fact, he didn’t want to die at all.

Not yet.

For one of the first times in his life, he didn’t feel the duty he’s always felt - the duty to step up to the plate and be the one to sacrifice himself for the greater good, or for his construed notions of love and family. He didn’t feel responsible for the world, for saving humanity, or for taking care of evil anymore. He had already accomplished that ten times over.

So yeah, Sam was right. They had done enough.

“You’re right,” he finally spoke up, eyes becoming watery. “I want to rest now.”

Sam looked stunned into silence. He had probably assumed that his older brother would never agree with him on this, and that Dean would go on hunting until the end of his days – a not entirely unfounded belief.

Slowly Sam’s shocked expression changed into one of pleasant surprise, and he started tearing up again. Sam brought his arm up to rest his hand on Dean’s uninjured shoulder, and both brothers looked at each other in silence, expressions filled with happiness and their heads full with thoughts that today marked the day of a new era for them.

~~~

Dean only spent a couple more days in the hospital while the doctors weaned him off the pain meds and kept an eye on his shoulder for any signs of infection. The older Winchester had been known to ditch his stays in the infirmary long before the medical professionals recommended he should, and he was entirely ready to keep up the tradition. He still really hated hospitals and was anxious to get out, but Sam insisted that he stay, saying that they needed to “do this the right way” to make sure they weren’t unnecessarily risking Dean’s health. Reluctantly he agreed, but on one condition – that Sam get him take out so he wasn’t forced to eat the god-awful mush that the staff tried to pass off as food.

Sam held up his end of the bargain, and in two days Dean was being discharged with no signs of infection and no signs of a newly found opioid addiction. The doctors scheduled him an appointment to have his stitches taken out in 2 weeks – an appointment he never intended to show up for. Stitches were something Sam and him had been handling for years, they didn’t need someone with a Ph. D. to pull strings out of his shoulder. Sam at least agreed to that much.

The doctors exchanged his bandages one last time and gave him a sling to keep the weight of his arm off his shoulder. Dean thought the damn thing made him look stupid, but he had to admit it did help relieve a lot of the pain. And with that, the brothers were finally walking out of the hospital.

Stepping through the automatic doors into the fresh air, Dean felt like a weight was lifted off of him. The colors on the trees looked more vibrant, the sun shone brighter… it felt like a beginning. To any random passerby, the pair would just look like some roughed-up lumberjacks leaving from their infirmary stay, but to Dean – and unknowingly, to Sam as well – it felt like he was closing an old chapter of his life and starting a new one, a happier one.

Then the impala came into view. 

“Oh baby, I’ve never been happier to see you,” Dean announced at the sight of his beloved car.

The chapters may change, but some things will always stay the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how hospitals work so if all that was unrealistic i'm sorry :/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahah pain :')

On the way back to the bunker, Sam and Dean stopped to pick up Miracle from Jody’s place. Upon arriving, the brothers were greeted with bone-crushing hugs from their hunter friend, and they met those hugs back with the same intensity (save for Dean and his messed-up shoulder), glad to see Jody alive and well after the whole Chuck situation.

They really hadn’t meant to stay long, intending to get Miracle and go, but Jody wrangled them into staying for dinner. Honestly, neither of them could say they put up much of a fight.

Upon entering the house, Sam and Dean were greeted promptly by Miracle with his tail wagging and his excited barking. Oh, how he loved that Dog, Dean thought. Then they were met by the rest of the girls – Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience – with big smiles. It warmed Dean’s heart to see them all here at once, happy and safe. Jody had turned the place into a real home for them, creating an unconventional family out of the shattered remnants of the rest of theirs. He had a lot of respect for her.

Dean didn’t like picking favorites, but he knew he was the happiest to see Claire. They’d known each other the longest, and despite having had their differences in the past, Dean felt as if they’d grown to have serious mutual respect for each other. He liked to think of himself as a cool uncle.

Dean told himself that favoring Claire had absolutely nothing to do with her connection to Cas. Nope. Absolutely nothing. It had no correlation to the fact that Claire felt like his last remaining tie to the angel. And it had even less to do with their resemblance. He almost believed it.

But he didn’t want to dwell in his grief, not when he planned to spend a great evening with his brother and their makeshift family. He was determined to enjoy tonight.

So, after a while of chatting and catching up in the living room, they all moved to the dinner table where Jody had laid out an excellent looking meal. He nearly moaned at the sight of it.

“Jody, why don’t we come over for dinner more often?” Dean questioned rhetorically.

Jody tsked. “Beats me, tough guy,” she said jokingly, sending him a genuine smile.

Within minutes, Dean was piling his plate full of food and chowing down as if it was the last time he was ever going to eat. Sam gave him his usual disgusted looks, but Dean could care less. He swore it was the best stuff he’s ever eaten, though that might’ve been an exaggeration due to his prolonged exposure to takeout food in the hospital.

The rest of the night carried on, every one enjoying their food, drinking (of those above the legal age of course), and sharing stories. Dean told his fair share of jokes, and Sam let out his fair share of exasperated sighs at his brother’s crappy humor. At one point, Jody said something so funny that Dean swore beer came out his nose.

Miracle was sitting next to Dean’s chair the whole time, giving him big ol’ puppy dog eyes as a way of begging for some scraps. Dean eventually gave in and started to try and sneakily feed him some small pieces under the table, even though every one could plainly tell what he was doing. Though they didn’t seem to mind. It was all worth it for Dean to see Miracle wag his tail in delight.

Throughout the night Dean had also noticed Claire and Kaia’s interactions. He had known that they were a couple, but he’d never actually seen them together after they’d made it official. They constantly shared looks with each other, whispered in each others ears, and Dean could tell by their body language that they were holding hands under the table. It was cute. He thought they made a great couple, even if the sight of them happy together had made him ache a little inside – the same way he ached when he saw Sam and Eileen talking over FaceTime. But he buried that feeling deep.

Over all, the night had been fantastic. The whole time they were together, he had felt the happiest he had in a long time. He could tell Sam felt the same, by the way his grin nearly went from ear to ear. After a couple more drinks and an absolutely mouthwatering pie that Jody had whipped up, the boys were ready to call it a night and head back to the bunker.

They said their goodbyes and exchanged their bone-crushing hugs once again on the way out the door. Hopping into the impala with Miracle in tow, Dean once again felt like his life was starting to take a better turn.

~~~

It took the brothers longer to get back to the bunker than it usually would, since Dean was a little too tipsy (and injured) to drive, forcing Sam to take the wheel – he actually went the speed limit, instead of going 20 miles over like his older brother. Dean didn’t mind though, it just gave him more time to hang with Miracle, who was slowly making his way from the back, and into the passenger seat on Dean’s lap. 

When they finally arrived, Dean flipped on the lights and took the place in. He thought he’d never see it again. The war room, the weird telescope thingy, the walls lined with books and odd artifacts. It was an unconventional home, but a home none the less. It was the first one he’s had since he was four years old. It was refreshing to have a base to come back to after years of moving from dingy motel to dingy motel.

“Home sweet home,” Dean said as he climbed down the stairs.

~~~

The next day when he woke, Dean felt refreshed. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to after sleeping. He liked it very much.

He got up, put on his robe, threw on his sling – which he still thought looked stupid, even if it did help with the pain – and headed towards the kitchen, where Sam was already whipping up a hearty breakfast. Dean could smell it before he saw it, and boy did it smell good.

“What’s all this?” he asked his brother.

Sam turned and looked at him as he was stirring something in a pan. “I just thought that today we both deserved a celebratory breakfast, to commemorate the start of our new lives,” Sam answered, and then turned back to the pan.

Dean was going to make a quip about his brother’s cheesy sentimentality, but then he caught a whiff of bacon and the thought was immediately lost. “Well I ain’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth,” he said instead, and grabbed himself a mug of coffee before sitting down at the table.

Soon the brothers were digging into the pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs that Sam had made, and Dean had to admit, they were excellent. Even Miracle came trotting it at the scent of it, and his mouth was practically watering at the sight of all the food on the kitchen table. Dean didn’t even try and hide it this time when he gave him little scraps from his plate.

After that Dean took Miracle for a walk outside around the bunker, so the mutt could take care of his business and Dean could hopefully burn off a little bit of his breakfast. It was cloudy and wet outside, as if it had just stopped raining. The only sounds Dean could make out were the chirps of birds in the trees and the crunch of gravel under is feet. He found the walking to be very relaxing.

Once the duo got back inside, Dean found Sam reclined in the library - taking part in his usual nerdy crap – so he decided to head to the man cave and watch some TV. After searching for a couple minutes, he picked out The Mandalorian, and he became so invested after the first episode that he ended up binging the whole season for the rest of the day. What’s Grand Moff Gideon’s story? How did he get the Darksaber? Why do the Empire remnants want the child? And damn it, he loved Baby Yoda… though he would never admit it to anyone – ever.

When he finished the last episode it was pretty late in the afternoon. Dean had skipped lunch since he ate so much breakfast, and now he was starting to feel pretty hungry, so he headed to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. Soon after that Sam joined him, and pulled a salad out of the fridge as his own dinner. They sat at the table and made comfortable conversation while they ate, Dean enjoying his cold cuts and mustard while Sam enjoyed his rabbit food.

Once he finished, he said goodnight to Sam and headed off towards his room. Dean changed into his pajamas – a black tee and some sweats – before grabbing his Walkman and deciding to listen to some music before he went to sleep. Sam made fun of him for it, saying that he could just download the music on his phone instead of using that “prehistoric artifact,” but Dean didn’t really care. He’d had this Walkman for so long it felt like a part of him. It felt authentic. No way he was trading it out for some modern piece of crap.

As he reached over to grab the cassette tape he was planning on listening to, a memory flashed through his head.

Dean was sitting at his laptop in his room when there was a knock on his door

He knew who it was before he even stepped inside.

Cas opened the door and Dean didn’t even look over. He was angry. 

“I’m sorry Dean,” Cas said, and Dean still didn’t glance his way – eyes straight ahead at his laptop screen. Was it petty? Of course, but Cas had never been that great at picking up on other peoples emotions, so Dean thought he would make his abundantly clear.

“Um...” he continued, and Dean saw him reach into his coat pocket out of the corner of his eye. “I just wanted to return this.” Cas placed a mixtape on the table, the one Dean had given him to keep. It read “Deans top 13 zepp traxx” in his handwriting. Cas had obviously not gotten the message.

As the angel was walking out of the room, Dean picked up the mixtape and held it back out towards him – still not looking over.

“It’s a gift,” he said.

Cas turned back, confused.

“You keep those.”

Dean suddenly pulled himself out of the memory, his eyes watery. He hadn’t realized he was on the verge of crying. He desperately didn’t want to think about Cas. Dean didn’t want the pain or the grief or the regret that came with all his memories of him, it was too much. They would suffocate him.

But he had to think about it now. Dean didn’t have anymore excuses left. He wasn’t trying to kill Chuck, or hunting a vamp, or spending time with Jody and other friends. Dean had all the time in the world to think, and there was no stopping his mind now that the memories started to flow.

Why didn’t I look back, he thought? Why didn’t I look at him? I should’ve looked back. He was only trying to help…

But none of those thoughts mattered. He couldn’t change the past. At the time, he hadn’t met Cas’ eyes because he was angry – angry at him for leaving, for disappearing without a trace, for making him worry so goddamn much. And when Dean was angry, it overtook him and all his other emotions, including the joy and relief he felt at having his friend back, so he took it out on him by being passive aggressive and childish. What an idiot Dean had been… in more ways than one.

In hindsight, the way Cas had felt about him was obvious. It was in the way he looked and the way he acted - everything. The prolonged eye contact, the way he threw himself into danger, how he rebelled against everything he’d ever known for Dean. It was love, and he had been too blind to see it until it was too late. Until Cas was long gone and he was all alone.

“I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

“I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did all of it for you.” 

“I always come when you call.”

“I’ll go with you.”

In every thing Cas had ever said, it was there, hiding behind different words and phrases. But it all meant the same thing, even if Dean hadn’t realized it. Even if Cas hadn’t realized it yet at the time. When you broke it down and stripped it to its barest foundation, the implications were the most obvious thing in the world. It all came back to those three little words.

“I love you.” 

Dean mulled over those words in his head a thousand times, replaying the images of Cas’ teary eyes and happy smile over and over again, despite how much it hurt. He couldn’t stop himself.

When Cas had first said it, Dean didn’t believe what he was hearing. It was as if an error popped up in his brain and it suddenly stopped working. He didn’t mean that, right? He thought. Or at least he didn’t mean it like that! No way, it’s impossible, Cas just thinks of me as family – as a brother… but the more he thought about it, the less that it made sense.

“The one thing I want… it’s something I know I can’t have.”

Cas already had Dean’s companionship - his ally ship. He already had his recognition as a brother. The only thing left to think was that he meant romantic love. Even now, when Dean knew for sure that’s what he meant, it was still hard to wrap his head around. How could an angel, a heavenly being, a powerful creation of God, love him - a broken, fucked-up, measly little human. In the span of Castiel’s whole life, Dean was just a blip on the radar. His entire existence was done and over with quicker than the angel could blink, and yet somehow he was able to flip Cas’ world upside down. It didn’t seem possible.

After a little while more of thinking, Dean put his Walkman away – he never ended up even putting it on – and stood up. He walked towards his chest of drawers where he kept all his clothes. Each one was filled to the brim with unfolded flannels and worn pairs of jeans - except the bottom drawer. The bottom drawer only held one thing.

Dean squatted down and pulled on the handles to open it up. There inside, was a jacket. Specifically, the jacket he was wearing the day Cas died. The jacket we was wearing when he died. For a moment, all he could do was look at it, finding it hard to bring himself to touch it.

He hadn’t had the heart to wash it, much less throw it away. So, when they had eventually returned to the bunker, he cleared out the bottom drawer and laid the jacket there. Dean was too afraid to touch it again, fearing that it would slip through his hands just like Cas had. This was the first time he’d opened the drawer since. The bloody handprint Cas had left was still there on the sleeve, practically staring him in the eyes. Dean almost laughed at the depressing irony of it – it was the first and last place Cas had ever touched him.

Slowly, Dean reached into the drawer and pulled out the jacket. It hadn’t disintegrated like he thought it would if he touched it again. It wasn’t instantly taken away by The Empty. It was just there – a sad reminder. Dean closed the drawer and stood back up again with the jacket, staring down at it draped across his hands. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

As Dean began to cry harder and harder, he made his way back over to the bed an laid down, still clinging to the jacket. He curled up and squeezed the piece of fabric tight, as if it was the only thing tying him down to the world. He sobbed, finding it more and more difficult to breath. The tears were flowing freely now and Dean turned his face into the pillow to try and muffle his pathetic whimpers – he didn’t dare stain the jacket.

Dean was an idiot. In fact, he was the biggest idiot ever to live. As much as he had repressed it, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt the exact same way about Cas. About everything. Dean loved him so much it hurt like hell, but he never allowed himself to feel it – and for what? Because Cas was a guy? Because Dean had internalized so much homophobia over the years that even thinking about another man like that was out of the question? Logically he knew that Castiel wasn’t really a man and that he had no gender – how had he referred to himself? A “multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent?” - but in his heart, that hadn’t mattered. Cas had chosen a male vessel, he looked like a man for all intents and purposes, so therefore Dean saw him as a guy. 

Had that really been it? Had that been the only thing stopping Dean from facing his feelings? Looking back, it seemed that way, and in hindsight it was the stupidest thing ever. Dean had repressed himself for nearly 12 years overs something so trivial, and none of it mattered now because Cas was gone. 12 years of love, and Dean wasted it all. How stupid he was.

Everything Cas had said about Dean, about him being the kindest and the most loving person, was all wrong. If anything, those things applied to Cas himself. Cas was kinder and more loving than Dean had ever been by far. He had put himself on the line, risked everything, sacrificed everything to save the world – to save Dean. Ever since they first met, Cas had only ever tried to do the right thing, even when he was wrong. He had only ever tried to be good, and even when Dean treated him like shit for it, he was still there. He was still loyal. And after everything, Cas had died not knowing the truth – that he was loved. That Dean loved him, exactly the way he’d wanted. He loved him so much his heart ached and his head swam, and his biggest regret was that he had made Cas believe it was completely impossible.

He continued sobbing most of the night, wetting his pillow with tears and clinging tight to the blood-stained jacket.

“I love you too,” he whispered faintly into the night, hoping somehow that he was heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? concerns?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally figured out how to add indents to the beginning of paragraphs :)

The next couple days continued similarly. The brothers would wake up and spend their days relaxing, enjoying life without hunting. Sam would mostly read books, FaceTime Eileen, work on his cooking skills, and go out for a run every so often. Dean would spend his time fixing up baby – their run in with the clown-vamps had left the backseat quite blood soaked - taking Miracle for walks, re-watching old movies he loved, and listening to his classic rock. The days were easy, they passed by like cars on the road. Sometimes Sam and Dean would do things together, like go out to eat or go for a drive, but they weren’t connected at the hip like they always used to be.

Before they finally got themselves out of Chuck’s hamster wheel, they were fighting, just constantly fighting – Azazel, Lilith, Lucifer, leviathans, Metatron, Amara, Michael… the list went on and on. The brothers were always on someone’s hit list. They never knew if the next day would be their last, so they were unceasingly trying to keep an eye on each other, nervous to let the other out of their sight. But that wasn’t the case now. They weren’t hunting, there were no celestial beings after them… they were safe. So for the first time in a long time, they could take a breather. Sam and Dean didn’t need to endlessly try and be their brother’s keeper. Just being in each others presence, just existing near each other – that was enough. And they were content. As aforementioned, the days were easy.

The nights, however… not so much. At least for Dean.

The days continued similarly, but so had the nights. Each night when the older Winchester went to bed, he’d be plagued by the persistent thoughts of a certain angel. All his memories, all his wishes and regrets that had to do with Cas played over and over again in his head like a depressing movie. First he’d try and focus on the happy things – his laugh, his smile, the times they hugged, how much he loved bees, the blue of his eyes, his endearing overuse of emoticons – all things that would that would make Dean feel warm inside. The things that, at the time, he hadn’t realized he’d loved about Castiel.

And then he’d remember that he’d loved Castiel. And that Castiel had loved him back the whole time. And that Dean had done nothing about it. That’s why Cas died. He died thinking that he wasn’t loved. He died without anyone having ever told him he loved him. Dean should’ve been the person to give him that. Dean should’ve been kinder to him. He shouldn’t have kicked him out of the bunker. He should’ve been more understanding. Dean should’ve-

The regrets just kept coming. So many that they overshadowed every single happy memory he had and swallowed him in a wave of grief and self pity. It was pathetic – Dean was pathetic. He should have gotten over this by now, he should be trying move on with his life instead of wallowing each night. In fact, he should be getting out of the bunker more and meeting new people, making new friends, maybe trying to meet a woman.

But he couldn’t get over it, and he couldn’t move on. Dean couldn’t just fall in love with someone new, get a white picket fence and have 2.5 kids. He had wanted Cas for _12 freakin’ years_ and he wasted every last one of them being afraid. That wasn’t something Dean could just forget. He _wouldn’t_ forget.

Eventually Dean would get out of bed after a couple hours of wallowing in his grief, and he’d grab the blood-stained jacket from its drawer. He’d crawl back into bed with it, sometimes wearing it, sometimes just hugging it close to himself, and he’d soon fall asleep. Dean had found that having the jacket with him was the only thing that helped him get some shut eye, despite how much it hurt him to look at it.

So yeah, he was pathetic. He was the textbook definition.

~~~

A few days later, Dean was in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and eating some leftovers for lunch when Sam walked in. His eyes searched for a second before they landed on Dean. He smiled, looking excited.

“Hey Dean,” he said as he walked closer to his older brother.

Dean turned towards him with a mouthful of fries and hummed his acknowledgement.

Sam leaned against the counter next to him, mirroring his position. “So, I was talking with Eileen earlier and I had an idea,” he started, sounding animated.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to propose already,” he joked, eating the last couple pieces of food on his plate.

Sam let out a huff of laughter at that, looking down and running his hands through his hair. “No, not quite,” he replied. “Since we haven’t seen each other in a while, since – you know… everyone disappeared…” Sam trailed off, smile faltering slightly.

Dean did know. He lost someone that day too.

“I thought it might be a good idea to head up there and spend a few days with her,” he picked back up. “And she agreed. I was planning on leaving later today.”

Dean hadn’t thought that this was where the conversation was going, but he certainly wasn’t surprised. Sam and Eileen were disgustingly enamored with each other, and he figured that Sam would head up to see her sooner or later. He had to say, he was happy for his little brother. Sam had had far too many romantic tragedies in his life, and he deserved to be happy – he deserved to be with a good woman. Eileen was most definitely one.

Dean smiled as he turned and threw his empty plate in the sink. “Ahh I get it Sammy, wanting to spend a romantic weekend away with your lady. If you want some alone time with Eileen, that’s all you had to say,” he teased, reveling in the way Sam’s excited smile fell and his expression changed to show clear annoyance. It was every older brother’s job to embarrass the younger brother, and Dean took advantage of every opportunity he could.

“No, that’s not what I – whatever. I was just wondering if you’d be okay with that,” Sam asked, slight concern in his tone.

Dean turned and looked at his brother, confused. “Of course that’s okay, I’m not your mother. You’re a grown man Sammy, you can go on a booty call whenever you want.”

Sam sighed exasperatedly. “That’s not what I meant Dean.” He crossed his arms and turned fully towards his older brother. “Your arm is still healing, and to be honest, you’ve been a little off lately. You haven’t really been yourself. I’m a little worried about leaving you here alone.”

At that, Dean dropped his joking tone. “Look man, I’m fine. I’ve dealt with far worse injuries on my own before-“ he motioned to his sling “-and I’m a grown man too. I’m not gonna breakdown just because my nerdy little brother isn’t here to hold my hand. Go, go have your time with Eileen,” he continued, shooing with his working arm. “Jack knows you deserve it.”

The corner of Sam’s mouth quirked up in a little smile. “Thanks,” he replied back.

Dean gave him a small nod and started washing his plate.

They both just stood there in silence for a little longer, Dean with his hand in the sink – washing dishes with one hand was harder than it looked - and Sam looking lost in thought.

“Ya know, Dean…” Sam started after a moment, a hint of apprehension in his voice. He already didn’t like where this was going. “We never ended up talking about Cas.”

Dean stopped mid scrub, water running over his still hand. He thought he had a few more hours until he had to think about Cas again, but here Sam was, making him think about the angel far sooner than he had to.

He could sense his brother’s worried expression out of the corner of his eye, so Dean brought his mind back down to earth and started scrubbing again. “Yeah, we never did,” he replied, trying to avoid the subject.

Sam sighed, sounding tired, “Look Dean, we’ve been through things like this a million times before. You can’t just keep your feelings bottled up, it’s not healthy. We shouldn’t have to keep having this conversation.” Dean knew that Sam was only trying to look out for him, but it didn’t matter.

“There is no conversation because I don’t wanna talk about it,” he replied to his brother, anger starting to grow inside him. Why couldn’t Sam just leave the subject well enough alone? Every time Dean thought he was in the clear, he just brought the topic back up. He was already torturing himself enough with thoughts of Cas, Sam didn’t need to torture him too.

“Well, you know what?” Sam responded; his own anger clear. “Maybe _I_ wanna talk about it! You weren’t the only one who lost Cas that day, he was my friend too. Except, I barely have any idea how he died because you won’t explain anything! All you said was that the Empty took him and that’s it! I mean, he might as well have just disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Every word Sam said, Dean could feel the ire inside him growing hotter, climbing and climbing towards the boiling point.

“Maybe you’ve gotten over it,” he continued, “but I haven’t. Cas was our brother, and I can’t deal with this without closure- “

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. The boiling point had been reached. Before he even thought about it, his uninjured arm was bringing the plate above his head and smashing it back down into the sink, sending a loud crashing noise echoing throughout the room. The ceramic shards splintered in front of his eyes and shattered across the basin.

Sam had stopped dead in his tracks, jumping back slightly at Dean’s outburst. He was just standing there now, silent with shock. To be honest, Dean had shocked himself a little too.

Dean put his hand on the edge of the sink, leaning forward and looking down at his reflection in the remaining water. His anger slowly turned into sadness as he let out a sigh.

“He wasn’t…” Dean started, having trouble finding the words. “He wasn’t my brother.”

Out of the corner of his eye Dean could see Sam quirk his head in confusion, probably wondering why he would say something so cruel about their friend. What Sam didn’t know yet was that it _wasn’t_ cruel. In fact, it was the exact opposite. 

Dean stood up straight and finally turned to look at his brother, eyes starting to get slightly watery. He didn’t care anymore if Sam saw how weak he was.

“You really wanna know what happened that day? I’ll tell you,” he asked him. Sam still just stood there silently waiting for Dean to continue, worry and fear etched on his face.

“Me and Cas were trapped,” he started, figuring that was a good enough spot as any. “Billie had us cornered in one of the backrooms and she was dead set on killing us,” Dean continued – he hadn’t even gotten to the worst part of the story yet and he was already feeling his emotions start to overwhelm him.

Sam was looking at him intently now, taking in everything he was saying.

“I was so sure we were gonna die all alone down there, having failed the whole world…” he trailed off. Dean brought his hand up and wiped his face, trying to calm himself. He didn’t know if he would physically be able to recount the whole story.

“Dean?” Sam questioned him, bringing him back down to earth. He hadn’t realized he’d spaced out.

“But she didn’t kill us,” he proceeded on. “Cas figured out a way to stop her.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, probably wondering where this was all going.

“When Jack was dying the first time, he made a deal with Empty – Cas traded his own life to save Jack’s, and the Empty would cash in whenever Cas was truly happy,” he relayed, feeling his voice waver slightly on the word _happy_.

“What?” Sam replied. “Cas made this deal and you guys never told me?” he questioned, sounding betrayed. Dean couldn’t blame him, the brothers had had their fair share of problems in the past with keeping secrets.

“I didn’t know,” Dean continued. “He didn’t tell me until we were trapped down there, and by then it was too late. Cas summoned the Empty to collect, and the damn thing took him and Billie too.”

Dean averted his eyes, feeling his voice crack with sorrow. He knew Sam would ask the million dollar question, and he’d have to explain the things he’d been repressing for so long, but in that moment he silently begged that Sam wouldn’t. That he’d just walk away.

Of course he didn’t. Sam just stood there, stunned into silence, mouth hanging somewhat open. “What…” he began to question, seemingly finding it hard to pick the right words. “What – wait I don’t understand. Cas summoned the Empty to take him – and consequentially, Billie - but in order to do that… wouldn’t he have had to be happy? What could’ve possibly made him happy at a time like that?”

There it was. Ding, ding, ding. And Sam was going home with the million.

Dean looked down to the floor. He could feel a tear start to fall from his eyes. He took a deep breath and looked back up to meet Sam’s confused gaze.

“He told me that he loved me.” It hurt like hell to say those words out loud. But he also felt relieved. At least he wasn’t carrying that secret around anymore.

The confusion had almost immediately dropped from Sam’s face, and dawning realization took its place. Dean could practically see the gears turning in his brother’s head, slowly putting the pieces together.

The waterworks were really starting to speed up, so Dean turned away from Sam, facing the other end of the kitchen. He took a few steps to give himself some breathing room and continued talking. “He was in love with me…” he said more to himself than Sam, “… and just saying it out loud made the poor bastard happy enough to get himself dragged away to super-hell.” Dean all but choked out the last words through sobs.

“Dean…” he could hear Sam say behind him, utter sympathy in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

And it was genuine. By the sound of it, Dean could sense that this news was really affecting him as well. But as many kind words as Sam could give him, none of them would make the situation any better.

“And the worst part is,” he continued, ignoring Sam, “He died thinking I didn’t love him back.”

Dean was full-on crying now, and he couldn’t even stop himself if he tried. The tears were blurring his vision and he was breathing so hard he thought he might hyperventilate. _Damn it,_ he thought, _I must look so stupid._

Suddenly Dean felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Sam looking back at him. His eyes were watery as well.

“Dean…” he said, trying to find the words to finish his sentence. But apparently he couldn’t, because instead of saying something more he just turned Dean fully towards him and brought him into a tight hug – minding his shoulder of course.

Dean accepted the hug and brought his left arm up to reciprocate. They just stood there silently, Dean weeping and Sam trying his best to comfort him. Dean hated that it was like this – he was the older one, he should be stronger than this, _he_ should be the one comforting _Sam_. But he was weak.

“God, it hurts so much,” he whispered.

“I know,” Sam replied. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be a big reveal in this chapter??? Who knows??? Definitely not me!

Once Sam had left, Dean had the whole bunker to himself for the first time in a long time – well, except for Miracle of course. But despite how much he loved the dog, having him around wasn’t quite the same as having another person around. He didn’t take up the same space.

Dean wandered around the halls for a bit, feeling the emptiness of the place. The bunker seemed too big when he was the only one in it – and far too quiet as well. This place was never meant for one person, it was meant to be filled with people. Seeing it so barren made him feel small as he walked around.

Without even realizing it, Dean’s feet had stopped their wandering in the middle of one of the hallways. When he looked up, he figured out why. He was in front of Cas’ room.

Dean remembers Cas telling Sam and him that he didn’t need one due to his inability to sleep, but the brothers had insisted. They told him that a bedroom wasn’t just for sleeping, and that it was also a space all to yourself – somewhere just for you. You stored stuff there, you could decorate it, you could be alone if you wanted to. Plus, Dean had said, if he ever lost his mojo again they’d need a bed open for him.

Eventually Cas agreed, but he rarely used it. Thus, Sam and Dean were rarely ever in there either. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he stepped inside. He had been tempted to on his way out of the bunker after the Empty took Cas, but he stopped himself. Even though Cas was gone, it felt wrong - It felt like an invasion of privacy. Maybe it was because he was still in denial.

Dean didn’t feel that way now. Cas was dead and gone. No one cared if he went inside.

So he did.

Hesitantly he reached down to grab the handle, and Dean swore his hands were shaking. He turned the knob, took and deep breath, and pushed.

Dean didn’t really know what he expected to see, but when he looked up, he was presented with a regular bunker room. The bed was perfectly made and untouched, there was nothing hanging on the walls, and a thin layer of dust covering all the furniture. To the average onlooker, it would seem as if no one had ever even been in here.

But Dean wasn’t your average onlooker.

He liked to think that he knew Cas better than anybody. They had considered each other best friends, at least – even if they both secretly wanted more. Thus, Dean knew that Cas was a bit of a neat-freak, and always put things away when he could instead of leaving them lying around. He walked over to desk in the corner of the room, leaned down, and pulled open the first drawer.

Just as he thought.

Inside the drawer was an old, worn looking shoe box. Dean picked up the box from its resting place and held it up to look at, hearing a few things slide around inside in the process. It was blank, with no markings or writing, not even a brand name to advertise what kind of shoes it used to hold.

Dean walked his feet backwards until his knees hit the bed behind him and he sat down, sending a small plume of dust into the air from the impact. Slowly, he moved his hand up to lift the cardboard flap and open the box.

The first thing he noticed inside was a cassette. Specifically, _the_ cassette – the one Dean had given Cas, labeled “Deans top 13 zepp traxx.” He reached down hesitantly and picked the cassette up. Dean brought a hand to wipe his mouth, feeling his emotions start to run.

 _He kept it all this time?_ He thought.

Dean had always figured that Cas hadn’t cared that much about it, considering his typical indifference to music. He figured he had thrown it the back of his car and forgot about it, or maybe lost it. At the time, even Dean thought it was a stupid gift to give, but his music meant a lot to him and he hoped Cas would understand the importance of it.

Apparently, he had. Dean suddenly felt an overwhelming joy start to rise within him, knowing that even though Cas didn’t really care for the music itself, the gift meant enough to him to keep. That _Dean_ meant enough to him, even if he himself struggled to see it.

He sensed tears threatening to fall, and he didn’t try to stop them. With no one around to see, Dean didn’t care if he cried. There was a weird mix of emotions flowing through him now – happiness, sadness, joy, despair, nostalgia – warring inside him, the pleasant memory conflicting with the painful present.

The next thing he noticed inside the box were the pictures.

Dean pulled a handful out, looking them over. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. There was the old photo with him, Sam, Cas, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. Dean was surprised Cas had been able to hold onto it for as long as he did – they must have taken that, what, ten years ago? It put a smile on his face, despite the tears running down his cheeks.

There were many more to look at. A bunch of them were candid, the three of them laughing, eating, and sharing drinks. A few of them were just Sam and Dean, a few of them were just pictures of flowers with bees on them, a few of the newer ones had Jack in them. He found one picture of him and Cas at a diner, with a burger wrapper tapped to the back of it. Dean barely remembered the joint or what he ordered there, but he remembered how much Cas had liked the food and the smile he wore most of the night. It made him laugh a little.

Then he noticed all the pictures of himself. There weren’t an overwhelming amount, but enough to realize that maybe Cas had a favorite. He could recall posing for a some of them, others he couldn’t. But in all of them, he looked happy. Just looking at these pictures, it was obvious how much Cas had cared – how much he loved his makeshift family just as much as Sam and Dean had.

It was even more obvious how much he loved Dean. One look at these pictures, and anybody in the world would be able to guess it.

But no one else in the world would probably ever see these. Despite how nice it felt reminiscing the happy memories, Dean had never felt more alone in his life.

Gradually, his sadness began to outweigh his joy, and tears spilt over good memories turned into tears of sorrow. Dean set the shoe box and its contents aside, and leaned forward to put his hands in his head. It wasn’t fair. Sam and him had done so much for the world – _he_ had done so much for the world, why should he end up alone like this? Why did Sam get to be happy with Eileen, with the love of his life, while Dean was grieving his?

Maybe this was some kind of cosmic joke. Maybe Chuck hadn’t actually lost his powers and he was just toying with him. Maybe this was all the bad luck he curated from breaking those mirrors on the Bloody Mary case. Or maybe this was just chance. Maybe there was nothing pulling the strings, and Dean just happened to get the short end of the stick.

He couldn’t decide which option was worse. Either way, he was alone, sitting there on the bed and sobbing into his hands. What a gloomy pity party.

Despite all those possibilities, Dean chose to believe that Chuck was really gone – that Jack was out there somewhere, watching over things. He _had_ to believe it. If he didn’t, he might fall apart.

So he decided to do something he hadn’t done in a while.

He decided to pray.

Dean used to always think that prayer was something futile, just empty words and thoughts that helped religious people sleep better at night. Angels weren’t even real, right? Then Dean learned a little more about life, that angels and God were really out there, and he thought maybe it wasn’t so stupid. Then he learned _even more_ about life, and came to the roundabout conclusion that prayer actually _was_ futile. Most angels are dicks, and so is God.

Praying to Cas wasn’t too bad at least, because usually he’d answer. The last time he prayed to Cas was when they got separated in Purgatory. In fact, that was the last time he’d prayed at all.

But this time Dean wasn’t going to pray to him.

“Hey Jack,” he said, voice sounding rough from the crying.

“I don’t know where you are right now, or if you can even hear me, but I just hope you can,” he continued, his voice cracking on “hope.”

“I’m proud of you. I really am,” and he truly was, “I know we had our differences, and I know I treated you like shit, but you didn’t deserve it. You messed up sometimes and you made some bad choices here and there, but so has everyone else. You were always trying to do the right thing, and that’s a lot more than most people can say…” Dean trailed off, thinking for a moment. “It’s a lot more than I gave you credit for.”

It was true. Dean really had treated Jack like shit. First, he blamed him for Lucifer killing Cas, then he hated him for reminding him of Cas, then he hated him for killing Mary, and then Dean nearly killed him trying to weaponize him against Chuck. He had spent so much time berating the kid that he nearly forgot how much he actually liked him – how much he cared for him. Jack was _family_.

“So, I understand if you choose not to listen to me,” he proceeded. “I understand if you hate me, or if you just don’t care. I only wanna ask you to do one thing. I know you said you’d be hands-off, but I’m begging you man…” Dean wiped his tears and closed his eyes.

“Please bring him back.”

It was the only thing he wanted.

“Please bring Cas back…” he whispered again, hoping beyond measure that Jack was listening.

His eyes were still closed tight, and he was gripping his knuckles so hard he thought they were turning white. Dean was afraid to open his eyes back up. He was afraid that if he looked, no one would be there, and everything would still be the same as before – Cas dead and Dean alone.

But he couldn’t stay in the dark forever.

Slowly, Dean began to open his eyes and take in the room around him. He looked ahead and saw no one, just the empty desk where the shoe box had been stored. Quickly he turned his head and looked around the room, hoping that maybe he was behind him. But he saw nothing. No Cas, just the same dusty bedroom Dean had initially walked into.

He was an idiot for getting his hopes up.

Dean stood from the bed and picked up the shoe box, dumping the cassette and the photos back into it before returning the box to its spot in the desk. He shoved the drawer closed more forcefully than he had meant to, resulting in a loud bang, and the sound of something possibly breaking in the desk. But he didn’t care all that much.

Dean ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh of despair. _Of course_ Jack wouldn’t answer, and Dean shouldn’t have thought any different. The kid probably hated him as he suspected, and was content to let Dean suffer. Plus, Jack had already told Sam and Dean that he wouldn’t interfere in the world. Why should Dean get special treatment? Just because he knew him? That wouldn’t be fair at all. Dean supposes maybe it’s the right thing to do, even if prayers go unanswered. Chuck had meddled with the fate of the world one too many times and drove the whole damn thing nearly to hell, so maybe Jack had the right idea being with being hands off-

“Mostly,”

Dean whipped his head around faster than he thought humanly possible at the sound of another voice… a familiar voice.

There, standing on the other side of the room, was Jack.

He looked exactly the same as the last time Dean had seen him - same white jacket and jeans, with his hair coiffed that particular way. Even the same kind smile that he usually wore.

Dean thought he was dreaming.

“Jack?” he asked, shocked and stunned and amazed all at once, uncertain if the Nephilim was really standing in the room with him or if this was just a desperate illusion conjured by his addled brain.

“I’ll be… _mostly_ hands off,” Jack repeated, slight amusement in his tone.

Now Dean knew that this was real. He started taking steps towards Jack, about to beg again for him to bring the angel back, but before he even got halfway there Jack was already gone, disappearing into thin air. Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

He was confused. He didn’t quite know what to do or say. He started looking around the room, wondering what had just happened. Had Jack appeared to him just to tell him that tidbit of information? What did that even mean, _mostly hands off_ -?

As he was looking around, Dean’s eyes stopped immediately as they came to the front of the room.

Standing in the bedroom doorway, was Cas.

“Hello Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took 8 chapters, but the star of the show has finally arrived ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Dean stood absolutely still. So still in fact, he thought his breathing stopped. But his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest – it was going a mile a minute at least.

He was afraid to move or even blink his eyes. Dean thought if he blinked, the sight in front of him would just disappear, like a heat mirage on an asphalt road.

Standing there in the doorway, almost six feet tall, with a long dirty trench coat, a backwards necktie, and dark hair… was Castiel.

_This couldn’t be real… is this real?_ Dean thought to himself _. Did Jack actually listen to his prayer? Did he really bring him back?_ Despite how hesitant he was to believe that the angel in front of him was actually there, Dean’s heart urged him to run towards Cas and envelope him in the tightest hug he possibly could give.

But still he just stood there, shocked and stunned, just staring at him across the room.

Eventually Dean remembered that he had a voice, and that now would probably be a good time to use it.

“Cas?” he asked, sounding small. “Is that really you?”

Cas looked down at himself for a moment, as if he himself wasn’t quite sure of his own actuality.

“Yes, it’s really me,” he replied in that deep, gravely voice that Dean missed so much. It nearly shook him to his core.

He felt all the stiffness in his body melt away, and he let out a deep exhale. One look into Cas’ eyes – the most amazing blue eyes he’d ever seen – and Dean knew it was true.

Cas really was back.

“Cas…” he said, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to follow it up with. But that didn’t matter. Because before Dean even thought about it, he was taking a small step forward, and then another, and then suddenly he was rushing towards the angel and enveloping him in one of the tightest hugs he’d ever given. Dean practically body-slammed into Cas with the force of it, and he could feel that the both of them nearly toppled over. He wrapped his arms around him – one over his shoulder and one around his torso.

Dean heard a gasp escape Cas’ lips at the impact – he must’ve been taken aback by the action. But after a few moments Cas brought his arms up and reciprocated the embrace, holding Dean just as tight as Dean was holding him.

This felt perfect. Cas was here, he was real, and he could touch him – it was all he’d wanted for so long. Dean swore his arms felt like they were made to hold Cas, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle. Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head down into the angel’s shoulder, his eyes growing watery and threatening to tear. He smelled like a mix of honey, rainwater, and something else Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was odd, but also something so distinctly _Cas_ that Dean couldn’t help but immediately love the scent.

Eventually, the two men drew apart. The embrace felt like it had lasted decades, but at the same time it felt not long enough. Dean pulled back, but still kept his hands on Cas’ shoulders, afraid that if he let go completely that he might disappear. He looked into Cas eyes and saw them searching his own. They stared at each other for a long moment, both just taking in the sight of the other. Dean tried to memorize everything about Cas’ face that he could, desperate to never forget what it looks like – his stubble, the bags under his eyes, the pink of his lips, his perpetually knitted brows…

After a moment Dean realized what he was doing and pulled himself out of his thoughts. He quickly drew his hands away from Cas and put them on his hips instead, stepping backwards.

He cleared his throat. “Cas man, I’m so glad you’re back,” he said with a genuine smile on his face, hoping to gloss over the previous awkward moment.

Cas returned the smile. “Me too,” he replied.

Dean ran his hands through his hair, in awe of the whole situation. “I’m sorry you spent so long in the Empty,” he apologized, “If I knew that praying to Jack would bring you back, I would’ve done it sooner.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Dean thought about asking for Jack’s help almost right after they defeated Chuck, but then he hit them with the “hands off” line, and Dean felt his faith crushed. After that he thought that trying to reach Jack would be useless, so he refused to get his hopes up that praying might work - Dean had only ended up trying it in the end as a desperate last resort. He really hadn’t expected it work, but now that it had, he felt like a fool for not doing it sooner, and for making Cas needlessly suffer longer-

“Actually, your prayer wasn’t what brought me back,” Cas replied. “At least not entirely.”

Now Dean was confused. His brows furrowed and he squinted at the angel. “What?” he asked.

Cas sighed, looking down slightly and avoiding Dean’s eyes for a moment, as if he didn’t want to say what he was about to. “I’ve actually been free from the Empty for some time now.”

That was not something he was expecting to hear. Dean took another step back from Cas. He was still confused, and when he was confused he got angry, and his mind started jumping right to conclusions.

“Wait, so let me get this straight…” Dean replied, frustration becoming evident in his voice. “… you’ve been alive for a while, and it just slipped your mind to tell me? Or Sam? You’ve just been letting us believe you were dead for _weeks_ , letting us wallow around in grief? What _happened_ , Cas?!” By the end of it, he was nearly yelling.

Cas sighed again at the reprimand, looking regretful. “Please, just let me explain,” he answered.

Dean scoffed. He wanted to yell more, he wanted to scream, but he also was desperate to know the truth. “Be my guest,” he said sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Outwardly he looked downright furious – and he absolutely was – but on the inside, Dean was a void of insecurity.

_Why didn’t he tell me?_ He thought. _If Cas was alive all this time, why didn’t he come back to me – to us? Does he regret what he said? Did he not actually mean it, or did he change his mind? Does he hate me because it’s my fault he was in the Empty? Why would he avoid me?_

Cas cleared his throat, pulling Dean out of his spiraling thoughts. “I spent what felt like an eternity in the Empty, reliving my past regrets,” he started. “But that’s just part of how the Empty works – any amount of time spent in there feels like an eternity. Judging by what I know now, I couldn’t have been there more than a few days.”

_A few days?_ Dean thought. His insecurity quickly switched back to fury. _Cas has been alive almost this whole time and only now he’s finally decided to show his face?_ All that time Dean spent grieving, spent trying to deal with Cas’ death, and he wasn’t even dead. He was on the verge of flipping his lid, but he kept his anger check. He needed to hear what Cas had to say.

“Despite only being a few days, however,” Cas continued, “it was hell.”

*Castiel’s POV*

He was happy. Despite the tears in Dean’s eyes, despite the tears in his own… he was happy. _Truly_ happy.

The Empty swirled around Cas, consuming his physical vessel and his angelic being, pulling him from the earth entirely and dragging him away to eternal darkness. As the tendrils coiled around him, a deathly cold pierced his skin and emanated all the way down to his bones – Cas could tell it was killing him.

But he was still happy. As he was violently ripped from life and damned to spend eternity in his worst nightmares, he was happy – because he was saving Dean Winchester.

Castiel had spent millennia after millennia on autopilot. He was a soldier, a warrior of heaven – nothing more. Just a being supposed to carry out orders. He felt nothing - no love, no anger, no joy, no pain. Castiel was emotionless as he was meant to be, killing innocents and decimating cities as his superiors advised him to, all without a second thought. He was a puppet through which heaven carried out its self righteous mission.

Then came Dean. Castiel had only known him for 12 years – practically a blink of an eye to an immortal being like him, but somehow in that miniscule period of time, Dean Winchester had managed to flip Castiel’s entire world on its head.

He remembers first laying his hand on Dean in hell, sewing his broken soul back together piece by piece. It was just another order from the higher ups – save the Winchester boy. Return him to his body. It was meant to be nothing more. But seeing Dean’s soul… _feeling_ it… it changed something in him. That’s when he felt his first true emotion – fear. All the anguish, the pain, the terror that Dean had experienced in hell radiated throughout his whole being. It scared Castiel, and started a chain reaction that not even God could stop.

For a while, he carried on as if nothing had happened, as if the mission was a simple success. Castiel continued following orders and being a soldier, doing as he was told without hesitation. But every interaction with Dean, he could feel himself breaking. It started as just a small fracture in his shell, barely a sliver – a “crack in his chassis,” as some would say. Dean would question Cas, rip into him for just blindly doing as he was told, make Castiel second guess heaven and himself. He would feel ghosts of emotions slipping through, like doubt and worry, but it was all controllable. He was able to hide it well at first.

However, things started to… _change_ between them. They went from simple allies, to friends. Instead of calling him _Castiel_ , Dean called him _Cas_. A nickname – a term of endearment. Another splinter to his shell, the crack growing bigger, and more emotions started to slip through. Cas began to feel things like warmth, happiness, and friendship. Dean made him care. Caring for things, caring for people, being able to think for himself… it was freeing. So he rebelled. He abandoned heaven and chased those emotions. Once he had felt them, he couldn’t let them go. He couldn’t let Dean go.

Before long, he felt everything – all the emotions that could be experienced. Cas felt pain and anger and hatred, but it was all worth it for the fleeting moments of happiness he could get his hands on. Heaven rejected him for his traitorous actions and called him weak. Many times, he found his own brothers and sisters hunting him for his betrayal. The loss of his family stung, but being embraced by a new one – a real one – made up for it all. He cared for his family, and they cared for him back in a way that heaven never could.

Cas couldn’t tell exactly when it started, but eventually, caring for Dean started to feel different. He cared for Sam and Bobby and every one else of course, but the way he cared for Dean wasn’t quite the same anymore. His soul shone brighter. Each time they touched, Cas felt electricity run through him. When they locked eyes, he found it hard to try and look away. He longed to reach out and hold him, to connect with him in every way he possibly could. It was something he didn’t feel with anyone else. Soon, he discovered this to be love.

Cas had fallen so far. He used to be a warrior, a stone-cold hand of angelic justice. He used to be feared. But Dean Winchester, just some mud monkey in the eyes of heaven, had managed to push him over the edge and make him fall in love. Cas felt pathetic because of it sometimes, but one look in Dean’s eyes and he knew it was all worth it. Every time he put his life on the line, every time he was hurt, every time he died, he knew it was all worth it if it was for Dean.

But loving him hurt. He knew Dean saw him as a brother – as family – and nothing more. Dean loved him back, but not in the way that Cas had so longed for. Cas knew his romantic history, his preferences. Dean only loved women. And though Castiel was not technically male or female, he had chosen a male vessel, and thus the Winchester’s saw him as a man. _Dean_ saw him as a man. He could never reciprocate the romantic love that Cas felt, it was simply impossible for him – so Castiel hid it.

So often he had wanted to tell Dean. He just wanted to blurt it out and let the whole world know how much he had fallen for the man, but he couldn’t. Dean might’ve rejected him, might’ve been disgusted by him. Dean might’ve never wanted to see him again. Cas simply couldn’t risk that. So, he learned to live with it. He learned to accept his unrequited love, and to find contentedness in their friendship instead. Dean couldn’t give him what he most wanted, so he cherished what little he could have. And for a long time, Cas was okay with that – with the fact that he would never be truly happy. That’s why making the deal with the Empty was a no-brainer for him – he new he would never experience the happiness that it described, and thus it felt like he was saving Jack’s life essentially for free. He could never be happy, and thus the Empty would never come for him.

Then they were trapped. Billie had them cornered. Angels were strong, but not even they could stop Death sometimes, especially low-level angels like himself. There was nothing he could do. They were both going to die down there in the bunker. It pained him like never before to see Dean so defeated and resigned.

But then a thought occurred to him. He remembered his deal. Standing there in that room with Dean, pondering the final moments of his life, he realized he could save him. He realized he didn’t need Dean’s reciprocation. He didn’t need Dean to feel the same way. He could find that happiness within himself, because happiness wasn’t meant to come from other people. People were meant to find happiness in themselves. To feel all those emotions he had felt – to have felt love – made him happy enough. Just _being_ in love with Dean was something he had never even considered possible. It was a confusing, conflicting emotion that gave him some of his best and worst moments, and he was happy just to have felt it in his life. And the fact that this could save Dean, well that just added to his joy.

So he said it. He said those three little words.

_“I love you.”_

And it worked. The Empty appeared, stealing away Billie and himself, a smile on his face the whole time. He didn’t care that he was dying. He didn’t care that he was facing eternal damnation, because he was doing it for the love of his life.

_Dean Winchester is saved_ , he thought.

But the happiness didn’t last long after that. Castiel knew what being in the Empty entailed - he had been there quite a few times after all. He knew that death for angels and demons meant eternal suffering, dreaming of your worst regrets and saddest memories over and over again. He told himself he was prepared for that reality, but he wasn’t. There’s a big difference between thinking about your worst regrets and actually reliving them.

Castiel felt himself completely immersed in the Empty now, surrounded by endless cold and utter darkness. He knew he was fully dead at this point – the Empty now had complete control of him. Around him Cas heard a venomous laugh, echoing from all angles. It was deep and guttural – it sounded absolutely horrifying, and shook him to his core. He knew it immediately to be the sound of the Empty’s real voice, laughing at him, happy to finally have the angel that got away.

Within a moment, Cas felt himself plunged into memories of sadness and grief, filling him with absolute dread. There was nothing he could do at this point but give in – so he did. Cas felt himself slipping away into endless sleep, detaching from reality and sinking deeper and deeper into the dark.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing with Cas' POV :)

Castiel felt what spent like an eternity in this hell. Over and over again – in no specific order – he watched himself do each and every single thing he most regretted, and he watched as he relived the memories that hurt him the most.

He relives the day he removed the block in Sam’s mind, allowing all his tortured memories from hell to nearly kill him. All that pain he caused him, just to hurt Dean. He watches as he reaches his hand up to touch Sam’s head. Cas wants to stop, to scream out and just pull his hands away – but he can’t. The actions have already been taken. The words have already been said. He can’t change any of this.

He remembers the sadness and disappointment in Dean’s eyes when he found out. He remembers the anger and the hurt. Cas feels that pain again, the pain of knowing that’d he’d just willingly aggrieved the person he loved most.

He remembers almost killing Dean in that crypt.

_“You don’t have to do this… CAS-! “_

_Punch_

_“Cas fight this, this is not you. FIGHT IT!”_

_Punch._

_“Kill me then! Do it, Coward!”_

_Punch after punch after punch. Rock shatters, and bones snap beneath his hands._

_“We’re family.”_

_He raises his blade._

_“We need you.”_

_He hesitates._

_“I need you.”_

He remembers falling from heaven and losing his grace. He sees himself broken, weak, and mortal. He watches as he’s accepted back into the bunker with the Winchester’s, only to be cast out again and left heartbroken.

_“Listen buddy…”_

_Cas sat there, knowing what was coming._

_“You can’t stay.”_

_But that didn’t make it hurt any less._

Hundreds and thousands more memories he was forced to endure, watching them through his own eyes, watching his own hands move, but feeling trapped in his mind, unable to do anything but sit back and go for the ride. The suffering was endless, the pain was endless. For what felt like an eternity, he experienced nothing but this waking nightmare.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was over.

In the middle of watching himself abandon Dean in purgatory, a wave of pure celestial energy washed over him. Instead of feeling the cold and dread of the Empty that he grown so used to, he felt warmth for the first time in a long time. It was a blessing. And it almost seemed… _familiar_ , somehow.

Instantaneously, Castiel felt himself gripped tight, and ripped from the dark tendrils of the Empty. He experienced his essence breaking through the barriers between worlds, and suddenly there was solid ground beneath his feet.

Cas gasped, and opened his eyes – _truly_ opened his eyes – and realized where he was.

Heaven.

He whipped his head around, taking in his surroundings. He recognized the blinding white corridors of heaven that held all the doors leading to the afterlives of billions of souls. _Was this another memory_? Cas thought. He looked down and took in his own visage – trench coat, black slacks, a blue tie. _This is no memory,_ he realized. Cas brought up his hands and touched his face, in utter disbelief of this reality.

Castiel was moving. He could control his own actions. This wasn’t some sad memory that he was reliving – this was actually happening. Cas was no longer trapped in the Empty. There was only one logical conclusion he could come to.

_Wouldn’t this mean... I’m alive?_ He thought _._

How could this be possible? Did the Empty release him again? Did the deal not stick? Did someone else bring him back? Who? What’s going on?

Castiel began to walk towards the end of the hallway, determined to find another angel that could give him answers. Before he even took two steps however, he heard a voice behind him.

“Hello Cas.”

He turned himself back around in an instant at the sound of someone behind him, and was faced with someone he didn’t quite expect.

“Jack?” he questioned, looking upon the Nephilim in front of him.

Jack smiled at Cas, and raised his hand up to greet him.

Jack looked much different from the last time he’d seen him. Not outwardly – he was still wearing the same clothes and sporting the same hairstyle – but inwardly, it was as if he was a whole new person. No, not a new person, just… a stronger one. Jack’s soul shone brighter than ever before, nearly blinding in its intensity. There was an aura around him too, so impressive in nature that it nearly resembled Chuck’s. Jack was far more powerful than the last time he’d seen him – he was no longer just a Nephilim, he was something more.

Cas had many questions and was eager for answers, but he couldn’t quite stop himself when he took the few necessary steps forward to embrace Jack in a hug. He honestly never thought he would see the kid again, and figured that his questions could wait a few minutes for him to enjoy being reunited with part of his family. He brought his arms tight around the boy, and Jack did the same. Castiel didn’t really know what it was like to truly have a child of his own, but Jack felt like a son to him. He cared for him deeply, and was willing to protect him at all costs – he _had_ protected him at all costs.

After a few moments, Cas drew away from the hug and took a step back to look Jack in the eyes. “Jack, I’m so glad to see you again, but I’m confused. What’s going on? Why am I alive? And what happened to you?” He hadn’t mean to ask so many questions at once, but he really did want answers.

“I’m glad to see you too Cas,” Jack replied, happiness evident in his voice. “And I plan to tell you everything.”

Jack proceeded to explain to Castiel what happened after he died – the people disappearing, Michael, Lucifer, the Winchester’s plan, defeating Chuck – filling him in on all the details. Jack relayed how they tricked Michael into summoning Chuck, how the bomb inside him had led him to become essentially a vacuum for celestial energy, allowing him to steal Chuck’s power and takeover as the new almighty - all the while Cas listened intently, soaking in all the new information.

When Jack finished speaking, Cas took his chance to speak up. “If that is true… then how long was I in the Empty?” He questioned.

“Three days, four hours, and seventeen minutes,” Jack replied, sounding nonchalant about his answer. That’s probably because it wasn’t nearly as astonishing to him as it was to Castiel.

_Only a few days_ … he thought. Cas had suffered in there for what felt like eons, and it turned out only to have been three days in the grand scheme of things. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not.

“I know you made your peace with death before the Empty took you,” Jack continued, “but I resurrected you anyway. Partly because of my own selfishness. You’ve been a father to me Cas, and I love you. I just couldn’t stand to see you suffer in there.”

Castiel felt warmth surge inside him at Jack’s words. It was truly endearing to know how much Jack cared for him, and that the father-son relationship he thought they had wasn’t one-sided on his part.

“And also, partly because I need your help,” Jack added. Cas squinted at that, wondering what Jack could need his help for. He was all powerful now, wasn’t he? What did Jack need some low-level angel for?

“Jack, you have all the resources of God at your disposal. I don’t understand how I could possibly help you more than your own capabilities,” Cas questioned, confused as to his reasoning.

At that statement, Jack let out a small chuckle and shook his head. “It’s not your powers that I need Cas, it’s _you_ that I need.”

The angel was only more confused by that answer.

“I want to reform heaven,” Jack started, “and you’re the best person to help me do that. The way things are working up here now just isn’t right.”

Castiel didn’t know what he expected to hear Jack say, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“Chuck and the previous angels didn’t quite understand humans the way they thought they did,” he continued, “and they built heaven according to what they _thought_ would make people the most content. But reliving happy memories on a loop for all of eternity isn’t what people desire out of the afterlife. I can tell that it isn’t right. But at the same time, I myself don’t understand humans enough to know what _is_ right. That’s why I need your help, Cas. I know that together, we can make a true paradise that humanity deserves.”

Cas simply sat there, stunned. _Rebuild heaven entirely_? He thought. _How would we even begin?_

Jack patiently waited for an answer while the angel thought it all over. The more he speculated on it, the more he realized that Jack was right. Heaven wasn’t a paradise; it was a movie theater. It was nearly exactly the same as the Empty in every way, except that the memories were happy instead of sad.

Angels weren’t supposed to feel emotions. They weren’t supposed to experience things like joy or despair, so they really could never have hoped to build a happy afterlife for those who did. That’s why they left the construction to the humans – those who went to heaven would build their own afterlife through their own memories. It was neat system, he had to admit, but it wasn’t right. Now that Castiel knew what true human emotions were like, he knew that heaven wasn’t all that it could be.

However, before Cas could voice his agreement, Jack began speaking again.

“I know you probably have things you want to do now that you’re alive again… _people_ that you want to see… but all I ask is that you help me complete this task. Help me rebuild, and you can be free to do as you please. You won’t have any obligations to serve me or heaven,” Jack concluded, a slight plea in his voice.

Cas thought for a moment. Jack was right, there are people that he wanted to see – or more truthfully, one person in particular.

Dean.

But Cas felt ashamed. It had only been three days since he had made his grand confession to the man, pouring his heart and soul into the proclamation of his deepest secret. He couldn’t possibly face Dean again so soon. The only reason he spoke the truth in the first place was because he thought that he’d never see him again. But now things have changed. Cas could go see him – _talk_ to him – if he wanted. But how could he? How could he look Dean in the eyes again, knowing that his love would never be reciprocated? How could he be near the man again, knowing that he’d have to live the rest of his life without the one thing he wanted most? The answer was simple – he couldn’t. At least not yet.

“I understand,” Cas finally responded. “And I agree, heaven needs to be remade. I will help you as much as I can.”

Jack looked up and met Cas’ eyes, a smile on his face. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Cas couldn’t help but reciprocate the smile. “I’m very proud of you Jack,” he commented. “You’ve done amazing things, and I know you will only continue to do more.” There was nothing but utter truth in the words.

Jack looked down bashfully for a moment, before looking up again to meet Cas’ gaze.

“So, shall we get started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hated the finale, but I did actually like the idea of Jack and Cas fixing heaven, so I kept that part of the plot.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter of Cas' POV for now. IDK I might change my mind later

Cas and Jack spent the next several weeks working on the restoration of heaven. Together, the angel and the Nephilim labored tirelessly to bring down the old walls that separated all the souls, and to create a new paradise – a better one. However, that was no simple task when he was charged with the wellbeing of billions of human souls. It was a slow and difficult process, but with Jack’s power and Castiel’s intuition, the pair made it work.

Cas suggested they model heaven after earth itself – someplace they were all familiar with. In heaven, the souls could go wherever they want and see whoever they want. They could finally reunite with loved ones, travel to places they’d always wanted to go, have the things they only ever dreamed of having. No more replicated memories, no more reminiscing in a time loop for all of eternity. This would be a _real_ paradise.

The duo made stops along the way of course. Jack visited his mother, and told her of all that happened and what they were doing. Kelly was so happy, and Cas swore she never looked prouder.

Cas took a break to see Bobby, and to introduce him to Jack. Sam and Dean had always considered him family, and thus Cas did as well. He filled Bobby in on their plan to remake heaven, and his response was something along the lines of “it’s about damn time.” Even in death, Bobby’s words were still wise beyond compare.

After that, Cas and Jack continued on their mission, breaking down all the barriers and building a place of happiness for the inhabitants of heaven. Even with the power of God, some things still took time. A few more days of work passed, and Jack and Cas were exhausted, but they were finally finished. They had rebuilt heaven from the ground up, and all the souls seemed to be overjoyed. Cas watched as couples were reunited, as parents found their children, and as old friends finally came back together. It filled him with warmth to know that these people were finally in the paradise they deserved.

Once they had time to take in the success of their shared creation, Cas and Jack finally sat back in the offices of heaven, resting for the first time in weeks.

Sitting there in the bright white room, Castiel felt a small smile grow on his face.

“I could not be prouder of what we have done,” he started. “The things that we have accomplished – that _you_ have accomplished – are an example of what God should truly be…” Castiel trailed off, thinking for a moment.

“…of what Chuck never was,” he added, smile briefly faltering at the reminder of his father. Cas turned and looked Jack in the eyes, hoping that the complete truth in his words was coming across.

Jack met his gaze, and he sported a sad smile of his own. “I appreciate that Cas,” he said, “but I don’t want to be God.”

Cas furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I may have his power, but I don’t want his title,” Jack continued. “Angels and humans alike have both done terrible things in his name, saying it was his will, and I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone to sacrifice to me or kill for me, I don’t want people to worship me or think I’m perfect… I’m not. I’ve done my fair share of bad deeds too. So I’ll still keep an eye on things and use my power for good, but I’m not going to write myself into the story like Chuck. I’m not going to be God, I’m just going to be Jack.” He finished speaking with a determined look on his face, sure of the words he was saying.

Cas sat there, astonished. Only three years old, and the boy was wiser beyond even Cas’ years. He knew in his heart that Jack was making the right decision, and nodded his agreement.

“Which reminds me,” Jack added, “my promise to you still holds. You’ve done so much already, and have no obligations to me or heaven anymore. I’ve resurrected enough angels to keep this place running. You are free to do whatever it is you wish.”

Cas looked down at that, unsure of what to say - he hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. He knew he should probably see Sam and Dean and at least let them know he was alive, but still he was too nervous to face Dean again. Cas felt foolish. He had faced off with a plethora of monsters and demons before without breaking a sweat, but he was nervous to face a human – a man who he knew wished him no ill will. A man who considered him family. It was childish, but even yet he couldn’t shake the fear of what could happen from seeing Dean again… the fear of rejection. Despite how much he wanted to reunite with the man, Cas knew seeing Dean would just cause him more pain.

“Well to be honest,” he said, “I’m not quite sure what I want.”

Jack chuckled lightly at that. “I know that’s not true.”

Cas quickly brought his eyes back up and tilted his head, feeling taken aback. What was Jack getting at?

“Truthfully, Castiel…I wanted you to be my right-hand man. I was going to pick you as the angel to lead this new heaven while I took my leave. You’re obviously the best choice. But in your heart, I know that you no longer want this life, and I could never force you to follow it. Things have changed too much for you in recent years, and you’d never be happy going back to being just another angel in the garrison.”

Cas was still confused by the Nephilim’s words, unsure of where he was going with this. “What are you trying to say, Jack?” He asked.

“I’m saying that… I know you don’t want to be an angel anymore. I know your true loyalty lies with humanity, and that’s where you want to be. You want to be _human_ ,” Jack stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

Cas began to open his mouth to argue, but found that he couldn’t. The more he thought about it… the more he realized Jack was right.

Cas had spent millennia after millennia feeling nothing – being nothing. Most of his life, he was just an instrument of Heaven’s misled mission. He thought he was serving the grand duty of upholding divine will, but honestly, Cas had never felt more devoted to a cause than when he was with his family – his _real_ family, the Winchester’s. Sam, Dean, and Jack… the connections he had built with them were some of the most impactful things in his life. And they were all _human_ things, like care and love and happiness. They were things that angels were never meant to have. Yeah, being human was hard sometimes – he had first hand experience from when he lost his grace – but all the inconveniences were greatly overshadowed by all the amazing experiences. Cas wanted family, he wanted love, he wanted to know what it was like to have a “white picket fence” as the brothers would say, and he wanted to know what it was like to grow old with the people you cared for.

But even if he was human, it was impossible for him to have those things. There was only one person he truly wanted to spend the rest of his life with, who Cas wanted to share everything with… but he knew that one person would never want those things too.

“Even if I was human,” Cas finally said, “I don’t think I would ever really be happy.” Even Cas himself could detect the abject sadness in his voice. Angel or not, he couldn’t have what he wanted, and that hurt.

At that moment Jack looked up, eyes flickering as if he just became aware of something. A smile grew on his face. “You’d probably think differently if you heard what I’m hearing…” he trailed off.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, concerned as to what Jack was picking up on.

Jack looked back down to meet Cas’ eyes.

“Here, why don’t I just show you…” Jack leaned over in his chair towards Cas, and brought his hand up to the angel’s head. Understanding what was coming, Cas closed his eyes. He trusted Jack and allowed the touch.

As soon as the Nephilim’s fingers made contact with his forehead, Cas felt a sudden wave of energy flow through him, and when he opened his eyes again, the scene in front of him was not Jack or heaven – instead he was looking down at Dean Winchester, sitting alone in one of the rooms in the bunker.

Cas wasn’t physically present in the room – Jack was only showing him a glimpse through his eyes – but he swore he could feel the dark clouds hanging over Dean. He was sitting slumped over on the bed, tears in his eyes and a shoe box next to him filled with – wait. That was _Cas’_ room _._ That was his own shoe box next to Dean, filled with all of his own pictures. What was Dean doing in there, and why was he crying?

After a moment Castiel realized that not only was Dean crying, he was speaking too. By the sound of it, he was praying to Jack.

The angel sat for a few moments more, listening to Dean choke out his words. He heard the man as he begged for Jack to help, as he pleaded for him to bring Castiel back to life. This hurt to watch. The display in front of him felt like a knife to the heart. Suddenly Cas ripped his forehead away from Jack’s touch, pulling himself out of the vision – he couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He gasped as his eyesight blurred for a moment and his consciousness was brought back to himself.

Cas was back in heaven with Jack sitting across from him, a sympathetic look on his face as he brought his hand back down to his side.

 _Was all that true?_ Cas thought. _Has Dean really been that affected by my death?_

Castiel had died many times – it was an unavoidable side affect of being near the Winchester’s for too long – and he had known that Dean would typically be left somber at his passing, but he hadn’t known how deep Dean’s sorrow truly went. Anyone who knew the man knew that he was never quite forthcoming with his emotions, and that anytime he felt something real he would try and mask it as best he could – usually with anger. Cas had just never really thought that this applied to himself as well. He knew Dean cared for him, but he also knew that Dean was angry or frustrated with him half the time. Cas always thought he disappointed Dean and let him down too much, and that’s why Dean would be angry with him. It made sense.

But with what he’d just been shown, Cas was starting to think that might not be the case. Deep down, maybe it was just Dean’s way of showing he cared. Maybe he was worried or scared for Cas, and he just presented it as rage. Could that be true? Had Dean been using anger to mask the depth of his feelings for Cas this whole time? He dared not get his hopes up. The self doubt in the back of his mind kept telling him that it was impossible – Dean could never feel that way, so he just forget about it and forget about Dean.

However, at the same time, he couldn’t stand seeing the man in so much pain. Cas could practically feel the despair radiating off of him from just that vision alone. It hurt Cas deeply to know that Dean had been so torn over his death, when he was actually alive the whole time. _He_ had caused Dean all this grief, and he couldn’t allow it to continue. Thus, he knew what he had to do.

The pain of seeing the person he loved in agony far outweighed his fear of rejection.

Cas suddenly bolted up from his chair, standing dead still in the middle of the room. He was determined in his decision. Even if Dean didn’t want to be with him romantically, Cas knew that a life without Dean in it was no life at all.

“I’ll do it,” he said to Jack. “I want to be human, you were right. I will always feel a duty to heaven, but I’ve simply changed too much for it. I can’t lead these angels when I myself have strayed so far from being one. On earth, with family… that’s where I’m needed most. That’s where I want to be the most.”

Jack smiled softly at him, and pushed himself up out of own chair, standing to meet Cas’ eyes.

“Then it’s decided,” he replied, and held out his hand. “I’ll see you later Cas.”

Cas smiled back at him, and reached to take his hand. As soon as they made contact, he experienced sudden rush of energy all around him and inside him. The room glowed as his celestial grace left his body painlessly, leaving him mortal. In a flash of light, the office around him disappeared and Cas found himself instead in the doorway of his room in the bunker – and a man he knew all too well standing just a few feet away from him.

“Hello Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p a r a l l e l s


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Christmas present, here's the chapter y'all have been waiting for :)

*Dean’s POV*

By the time Cas had finished recounting his story, Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed again, head in his hands. He felt like his brain was about to explode with all the new information it was taking in. He hadn’t said a word the whole time, too caught up in his thoughts to say anything.

Cas still stood towards the front of the room, but he had taken a few steps in from the doorway and closer to Dean. Now that he was finished explaining, Cas stood silently, seemingly anxious to hear Dean’s response. And in all honesty, Dean had no idea what that would be. Where would he even begin?

Cas had told him everything – from the moment the Empty took him to the moment before he appeared again right in front of Dean’s eyes. So much had happened to him in just a couple weeks.

Dean felt so sorry that Cas had to spend that time in the Empty, even if it was only three days in the end. He couldn’t imagine what it was like – living your worst memories over and over again for eternity. Dean had so many regretful memories, he was sure he could work through them until the end of time and still have some left over. It must’ve been hell for Cas, and it was all Dean’s fault. Thankfully however, Jack pulled him out of there, and Dean was now eternally grateful to the kid.

And remaking heaven? The _whole_ thing? That was… huge. Truthfully, Dean had never been a fan of the whole “reliving your golden oldies” idea, as it felt somewhat claustrophobic. But that to him was far better than an afterlife in hell - he should know from firsthand experience. However, this new heaven that Jack and Cas had apparently built sounded like paradise. It sounded like freedom. Being able to really see his parents again, to see Bobby and the Harvelle’s and everyone else, instead of just his memories of them – that sounded like a real heaven. With that information, Dean knew that when the time came for him to finally bite the dust for good, he’d be able to go peacefully with the knowledge that he was _actually_ going to a better place.

But the part of Cas’ story that hit him the hardest, was the fact that Cas was human now. No wings, no mojo… just Cas. He’d been mortal before of course, after the angels fell from heaven, but that was a mistake. Castiel never meant to lose his grace, and the end goal had always been to get it back – to become an angel again. This time though, it wasn’t a mistake. Cas had chosen this life, to eat and sleep, to feel pain and grow old and die. Cas _wanted_ this. He gave up power, immortality, and status all for Dean. He simply couldn’t wrap his head around it. Was he truly worth that much to Cas?

Apparently Dean had been thinking too long, because Cas began to speak up again, breaking the silence of the room.

“Dean, I know my absence was hard,” he started, “and I know you’re probably mad at me for not telling you that I was alive, but I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to come down and see you the whole time, I just simply… couldn’t. I couldn’t find it within myself to come and see you after everything I said. Not until now, at least.”

Dean finally brought his head up and met Cas’ eyes. He could feel the former angel searching his expression, trying to discern what his response would be. “Cas…” he began, “I’m not mad.”

He looked back at Dean with surprise, as if he expected a completely different reaction. “You aren’t angry?” Cas asked.

Dean pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the bed and took a few tentative steps towards the other man. “No, I’m not. I was at first, but honestly… it doesn’t matter.” Another step forward. “Before, I used to spend a lot of time being pissed at you for things that couldn’t have been helped, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve a lot of things I did…” Another step forward. He could feel his tears starting to well up again.

“Hell, you chose to _die_ for me Cas,” Dean continued. “You saved my life. So it doesn’t matter why you stayed away, because I could never be mad at you for that.” Another step forward. There couldn’t have been more than two feet of space between them now. Dean’s heart was racing incredibly fast - so fast he thought it might jump out of his chest.

One more small step. “I’m just…” Dean trailed off, looking down. Without really thinking, he reached out and took Cas’ hand in his own. He heard the former angel gasp lightly and tense at the contact, but Dean didn’t let go. “… I’m just happy that you’re back.”

At that, he raised his eyes to meet Cas’ gaze, but the other man was still looking down at their joined hands, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. After a moment, Cas slowly brought his eyes back up to lock with Dean’s. He looked scared almost, but Dean was sure he looked the same way. This was entirely new territory for the both of them. Despite the fact that they were hugging not that long ago, he had never felt closer to Cas than in this moment. This was different, it was more… intimate.

There was still a chance that he could pull back and walk away from this situation. Dean could just laugh it off and pretend like he was just really pumped to have his best-buddy-bro back, and that he was having a stupid chick flick moment. Cas would probably let him, too, and then they’d both just act like it never happened.

But it was happening. And this time, Dean didn’t want to back away. He had spent so long repressing himself, shoving his feelings into the deepest darkest corners of his mind, he was sure not even Pamela would be able to find them if she was around – and that’s saying a lot. But he didn’t want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be _happy_. So he kept holding Cas’ hand, and kept looking deep into his sky blue eyes. There was no more backing away.

“Cas…” Dean started, not really sure where he was going – but it didn’t matter, because Cas interrupted him before he could find out.

At the sound of his name, Cas’ expression changed, as if he was pulled out of a trance. For a moment he looked horrified, but Dean didn’t get to see the face for long before Cas was pulling his hand away and stepping back, turning to face the other direction.

Dean immediately felt fear shoot straight through him. Within a second, feelings of insecurity began to wash over him. _Was it true? Has Cas really changed his mind? Is he about to reject me?_

“Dean,” Cas sighed, with his back now turned to the other man. “The things I said that night… I- I never said them as to burden you.”

He instantly knew which night Cas was talking about. The memory came back to him.

_“I cared about the whole world because of you.”_

_“You changed me Dean.”_

_“I love you.”_

It stung to remember.

“The only reason I confessed those things,” he continued, “was because I knew it would summon the Empty and you would end up being saved. Had those circumstances not occurred, I would’ve kept that secret for the rest of my life.” Each word Cas spoke, he sounded more and more dejected.

Wait… he wasn’t rejecting Dean. Cas thought Dean was going to reject _him_.

Gradually, he turned around to face Dean again, looking resigned. “I know that my feelings aren’t reciprocated, and that’s fine. I’ve come to accept that. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything you don’t-“

“Stop,” Dean interrupted. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Just stop, Cas.”

Cas obeyed the command and cut himself off, looking back up at Dean with surprise written in his expression.

He had to say something now, something to make sure the former angel would understand him completely. Dean had never been good at communicating his feelings, no matter what they were, but he knew he couldn’t allow Cas to go on like this. He had to try.

“I never believed before I met you,” is what he came up with. Cas continued looking at him with confusion, probably unsure of where Dean was going with this. Even Dean didn’t really know where he was going with this.

“I always thought heaven and angels and God were all just a bedtime story to help people sleep at night,” he continued, eyes starting to grow watery. “But then you walked into my life and turned everything I knew on its head. I had faith for the first time.”

With each word Dean found it harder to speak, working to hold back the sobs that were building in his throat.

“But not in God or heaven… I never believed in them. It was _you_ I believed in.”

Cas’ expression slowly started to soften. Hopefully he was understanding what Dean was so desperately trying to say.

“Hell, you were the first person I ever prayed to.” He felt a tear slide down his cheek.

Dean stepped closer to Cas, and he didn’t back away. “For the longest time,” he started again, “I told myself that you were just like Bobby, or like Sam. That the things I felt were the same.”

He took a deep breath. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth.

“But they’re not,” Dean choked out, barely even bothering to try and hold back his sobs. Cas needed to see this – he needed to know that he really meant it.

“Losing you, it-“ he cut himself off as he blinked down to the floor, his vision blurring from the tears. “It never feels the same as losing them.”

Dean cleared his throat and looked back up. He felt like a weight was slowly starting to be lifted from his chest.

“I didn’t know… I never thought angels could- could feel things like that. Things like-“ Dean practically choked on the word, “- _love_.”

He tried to calm his racing heart before he spoke again but it was no use. There was simply no nonchalant way of having this conversation.

“And then Billie had us trapped, and out of no where you were saying all these- these things that just didn’t make sense-“ Dean’s voice was trembling and his breathing was becoming erratic, “-and by the time I put the pieces together you were already long gone.” He took another step forward, and the two were practically chest-to-chest now. Dean could see that Cas had started shedding tears of his own.

“I never got a chance to say it back, but it’s always been you.” Even with the blood rushing in his ears, the hitch in Cas’ breath was unmistakable.

“ _Always_ ,” Dean repeated, as he slowly brought his shaking hand up to cup Cas’ cheek. The contact sent a spark through him, and Cas didn’t pull away.

Dean almost didn’t believe himself when he heard the words leave his mouth.

“I love you too, Cas.”

It felt like a floodgate had just been blown wide open in his mind, as twelve years of repressed emotions all flowed out of him in just that one sentence.

He gradually leaned his head towards Cas, giving the other man time to draw back if he wanted to – but he didn’t. Dean closed his eyes. He moved closer and closer until their noses were brushing together and he could feel Cas’ breath on his face. He hesitated for a split second – one final moment of uncertainty – before he cast that feeling aside, and pushed forward.

Their lips touched. For a moment they just breathed each others air, before Dean closed the final centimeter between him and Cas.

He gently pressed his lips against the ex-angel’s, and Dean thought the floor might fall out beneath him. It felt like the world stopped spinning. For a second he thought he was dreaming, because he couldn’t possibly be doing what he was doing right now. Dean had never even imagined this could be possible.

But it was real, it was happening, and Dean thought he might melt.

The kiss was a little stiff at first – both of them too nervous to move, lest the dream end. But after a few seconds Dean pulled away and opened his eyes, looking right back into Cas’ to gauge his reaction. For what felt like an eternity they just stared at each other, searching their eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. They both ended up moving at the same time however, surging towards each other to crash their lips back together.

Suddenly they were moving in sync, and pressing together with years and years of pent up passion. This kiss wasn’t chaste or gentle or nervous like the previous. It was heated, and filled with the fire of everything they had been holding back for so long.

Cas’ lips were chapped and dry – it felt different from all the women he’d made out with over the years, who often were wearing some sort of lipstick or gloss – but he liked it. They felt right, pressed up against his. They felt perfect.

Cas had brought his hands up to Dean’s sides, holding his waist and balling his fists in his shirt. The pressure against his torso urged Dean on further, and he slid his hand from Cas’ cheek to thread it through his soft hair, tugging on it ever so lightly.

They carried on like this for what like felt like forever yet not long enough – until Dean’s lungs burned with the lack of oxygen and he had to pull back to draw in a deep breath. Still unwilling to break the contact though, Dean leaned forward and pressed their foreheads while the both of them caught their breath.

The only things he could hear were the sounds of their panting and his heartbeat in his chest. Dean wanted to stay in this moment and never leave it.

He couldn’t help himself but to say it again.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AND THEY WERE ROOMATES) So, how was it? I'd really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter especially!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been pretty angst-heavy so far, so from this point on I will be delivering the fluff :) no promises that there won't be a little more angst tho...

After Dean and Cas had calmed themselves down enough, catching their breath and wiping away their last tears, they went straight for the kitchen. Cas was human now after all, and he was probably starving. Dean’s suspicions were confirmed when other man’s stomach let out a loud growl as they were walking through the halls, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Cas just rolled his eyes.

“The human condition,” he commented. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it…”

When they finally passed through the doorway that led to Dean’s favorite room in the bunker, he sat Cas down at the kitchen table and got to work. He walked up to their storage cupboards and pulled out two key ingredients – peanut butter and jelly – and then he grabbed bread from the fridge. Dean remembered how much Cas loved PB and Js from the last time he was human, and how dismal he was that he couldn’t taste them after getting his grace back. He hoped Cas would appreciate it.

As Dean worked, the room fell into silence as he put together the sandwich – the only sounds he could discern were the scrapes of his knife and the humming of electricity in the walls. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Not five minutes ago they were locked together in a searing embrace, and now neither of them knew quite what to say. Dean had always been better with actions than words anyway – thus, the sandwich.

When he had finished crafting the gourmet meal, Dean returned the food items to their rightful places and walked over to join Cas at the table. When the other man looked up and noticed what he had made, a small smile formed on his face.

Dean plopped himself down in the chair opposite Cas and pushed the plate towards him. “Bon appetite,” he commented.

Cas just looked down at the sandwich for a moment, smile still on his face. Dean thought he could stare at that smile forever and never get tired of it.

He then looked back up and met Dean’s eyes. “You remembered,” Cas said, sounding delighted as he picked up the sandwich and started eating

“Of course,” he replied, “you only went on about PB and Js for a whole day after you tried them for the first time. I would never forget.” Dean swore he saw Cas blush a little at that.

The room fell into silence again as Cas ate. Dean just sat there watching him, still stunned to the fact the he was alive and breathing – and eating his food, no less. It felt like a dream come true. Not even half a day ago, Dean was crying in this very same kitchen to Sam about how deeply he missed the former angel. This day had really taken an entire one-eighty for him.

After a few minutes, Cas looked up at him again and quirked his eyebrows. Dean realized it must be weird, just staring at Cas while he ate with a dopey look on his face. He immediately sat up straight and cleared his throat, hoping to gloss over that awkward moment.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Dean said stiffly as he pushed himself up from his chair rather fast and made his way towards the fridge. _Smooth, Dean_ , he thought sarcastically. _Real smooth_.

He pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed the first bottle he saw, not caring what brand it was. He wasn’t really that thirsty anyway.

“So,” Dean started, popping off the cap and taking a sip. “I should probably call Sam and tell him what’s up. He’ll be glad to know you’re back.” It was a bit of an obvious statement, but he just needed something to say so that the room wasn’t so quiet.

“That seems appropriate,” Cas replied. He had finished eating and was now making his way towards the sink to deposit his empty plate there. “I wouldn’t want him to stay in the dark any longer than he has to.”

Dean nodded his head at that. “Yeah…” he answered, and took a swig of his beer as he thought for a moment. “Hey Cas,” he started in a serious tone, taking a step towards the other man.

At the call of his name, Cas looked up and met Dean gaze, blue eyes locking with green.

“I know we said a lot to each other tonight,” he continued, knowing that he was treading in dangerous waters. “And every thing I said to you was true…” Cas tilted his head slightly in response, probably wondering what Dean was getting at.

In order to make sure Cas believed him, Dean set his bottle aside on the counter next to him and took a few more steps forward to take Cas’ hand. It wasn’t nearly as life changing as the first time he had done it, but it still felt surreal that he was now allowed this contact, and the feeling grounded him. It was also a reminder to Dean that he needed to keep talking.

“… but d- do you think that maybe we could keep this between us for now?” He asked. “I just don’t think I’m ready to let Sam know about-“ Dean brought his other hand up and motioned between him and Cas “-this yet. About us.”

Dean had finally come to accept his feelings for Cas, and that he might not be the one hundred percent heterosexual macho-man he always made himself out to be. He had already practically confessed to Sam earlier in the day, so Dean was pretty sure his little brother already understood that about him. Sam had good enough deduction skills to figure it out. But now that Cas was back, things were different. He and Dean were _activel_ y participating in a romantic relationship – or at least Dean hoped. That felt like very intimate information at the moment, even if it would probably seem like the obvious course of action to Sam.

Maybe he was being stupid, or maybe it was just his slowly dissolving internalized homophobia, but Dean just didn’t want to come right out and say all these things to his little brother yet. Hopefully Cas would understand what he was thinking.

Thankfully that seemed to be the case. Cas’ expression softened at Dean’s words, and he squeezed their joined hands in reassurance. “Of course, Dean,” he responded. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that made you uncomfortable.” Cas brought he free hand up to place it on Dean’s shoulder – the one that was still healing.

The contact sent a small pain through his right side, and he winced at it. Dean had ditched the sling once Sam left, and he honestly forgot that the wound was still there. It was an unpleasant reminder that he had almost died, and that Cas’ sacrifice had almost gone to waste.

At Dean’s reaction to the touch, Cas immediately drew his hand back, a mix of surprise and worry forming in his expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “Are you hurt?”

Dean let out at soft chuckle at Cas’ concern. “I’m good,” he replied, “Just some bruises. I got knocked around a little on the last hunt.” That he knew, was a bit of a lie.

Cas’ let out a sigh, and his expression changed to one of disappointment, as his hands fell to his sides. “I’m sorry Dean,” he said, averting his eyes. “I should’ve been there to protect you.” The regret in his voice made Dean’s heart ache.

“It’s fine, Cas. You had your plate full. I already told you I’m not mad,” he reassured him, hoping the sincerity in his tone was coming across.

Cas stayed silent for a moment, eyes still downcast.

“I would heal your wounds, if I still could,” he brought his gaze back up, meeting Dean’s eyes again and giving him a look that could rival even Sam’s puppy dog expression.

Dean felt the corner of his mouth quirk a little at the utter honesty of the statement.

“I know you would.”

~~~

While Cas cleaned up the kitchen, Dean stepped out into the hallway to call Sam and fill him in on everything that had happened – well, mostly everything. He told his little brother about how Jack appeared, and then Cas, and about what they did together in heaven. Dean also filled him in on his newly acquired status as an ex-angel. What he strategically neglected to mention however, was all the hand holding and love confessions.

Sam was ecstatic upon hearing the news of Cas’ revival. While he was still on the phone with Dean, him and Eileen even agreed to cut their stay at her place a few days short, and that instead Eileen would come back to the bunker with Sam and stay with them for a little while. Dean was excited about that. He had missed Eileen and would be glad to see her again – plus, he hated an empty bunker. The more the merrier, especially when they were family.

The brothers said their goodbyes, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket. He stepped into the kitchen doorway to check up on Cas and see how he was doing. He saw him put the last plate away, and start to dry his hands on the kitchen towel.

At the sound of Dean entering, Cas set the rag down and turned to face him, meeting his eyes.

“Dean, I have this odd sensation… I feel like it’s very difficult to keep my eyes open. I believe it’s exhaustion,” Cas stated in a clinical manner.

Dean chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. Whether human or an angel, some things just never change. “Welcome to humanity, with all its perks,” he commented, a fond smile on his face.

Cas let out a tired sigh. “I should probably rest. There are few things I’ll miss about being an angel, but the unnecessity of sleep is one of them.” At that, he started making his way towards the exit.

“Yeah, I could use some shut-eye too. It’s been a long day…” Dean replied, and they both left the kitchen together.

Dean led them to the bathroom, to Cas’ confusion, and reminded him that before sleeping, humans also needed to brush their teeth. Dean broke a new toothbrush out of its package for Cas and handed him the toothpaste. _Huh_ , Dean thought. _An ex-hunter tries to teach an ex-angel how to brush his teeth… it sounds like the setup to a bad joke._

When they had finished, the pair made their way towards their respective bedrooms. Dean stopped in front of his door, reaching for the handle as Cas passed him to go to his own room.

A thought occurred to him.

“Stay with me?” he asked impulsively, before his brain even processed what he was saying. He could hear Cas stop dead in his tracks and turn his way, but he kept his eyes trained downwards on the door handle.

It sounded needy and pathetic, but Dean desperately didn’t want to spend another night alone – not if he didn’t have to.

He heard Cas take a few steps back towards him. “Of course, if that’s what you want,” he responded, sounding slightly surprised himself. At that, Dean looked up to meet Cas’ eyes.

He let out a relived sigh. “Thanks, Cas.”

The other man’s expression softened. “There’s no need to thank me.”

Then, Dean turned the doorknob and they stepped inside together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! these chapters are starting to catch up with how far i've actually written, so updates will probably be less frequent from now on. But fear not!!! I promise I will not abandon this work!!! 
> 
> Tags might change too. Not for anything explicit or graphic, just some stuff I didn't want to spoil yet. hehe


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this chapter, DeanxBenny apparently went canon so OFC I had to add a little reference to it!! Even back when I first watched s8, i absolutely knew that they had to have done the dirty at least once. So anyways, I hope you enjoy this disgusting amount of fluff I wrote :)

Once inside, Dean flicked on the lights and shut the door. As he turned to face the room, a big mass of yellow fur suddenly hopped off the bed and bounded towards Dean. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas nearly jump with surprise.

“Hey, buddy!” he exclaimed, reaching down to pet Miracle, who was now rubbing up against his legs. He felt a big smile plant itself on his face. Dean was wondering where the canine had gone – he must have been napping in here.

As he was giving the dog some belly rubs, he looked back up at Cas, who’s initial shock seemed to have melted away and was replaced with a fond smile. “Who is this?” he asked, excitement underlying his voice.

“This,” Dean chuckled, “is Miracle. We found him at a gas station.” With that, he stood up, and let the mutt wander over to Cas to check him out. He gave the man a few precautionary sniffs before wagging his tail excitedly and giving a little yip – an indicator that Cas had been deemed a friend.

Cas’ smile grew even wider as he squatted down to pat Miracle behind the ears. “Well, I’m happy to make your acquaintance.”

Dean watched the scene playing out before him intently – Cas, the man he was in love with, playing and laughing with his dog. The domesticity of it all made his heart flutter. Seeing it unfold, Dean realized he desperately wanted more moments like these – moments with the small things that life had to offer, the things that he never got to enjoy because Sam and him were always too busy saving the world.

Dean wanted to take Miracle on walks with Cas and just enjoy the weather. He wanted to wake up next to Cas. He wanted to cook him dinner and go to the movies with him. He wanted to enjoy every insignificant moment with him – Dean wanted a life with Cas. He wanted _everything_.

In the midst of his epiphany, Dean hadn’t realized that Miracle had started scratching at the door and that Cas had consequentially let him out of the room – leaving Cas and him alone, with Dean just absently staring at the former angel. He quickly snapped himself out of the day dream and cleared his throat, hoping to break the awkwardness he’d just created.

Cas tilted his head and squinted at him. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s…nothing,” Dean replied, the corner of his lips quirking in a bashful manner.

Intent on doing something other than looking like an idiot in love, Dean quickly turned on his heels and went over to his drawers to grab something to sleep in. He pulled the top one open and grabbed just a plain black tee and some sweats. Usually, he’d just sleep in his boxers, but he didn’t quite want to do that now – for obvious reasons. He shut the drawer and turned back to look at Cas, who was now just standing quietly by the door. He seemed nervous, and was slightly shifting his weight between his feet.

That’s when he remembered – Cas didn’t have any other clothes of his own. Being an angel, he hadn’t needed any. Though that obviously wasn’t the case anymore. “Right…” Dean said as he turned around once more to grab something for Cas. He pulled out a nondescript gray tee and another pair of sweat pants.

He walked over to Cas and handed him the clothes, as they both respectfully turned the other way and put them on.

Dean had far fewer layers on, and by the time he had finished changing and turned around again, Cas had only just started to unbutton his white dress shirt. He was still facing the opposite side of the room, and hadn’t noticed that Dean was watching him.

He knew he should turn away and give Cas some privacy, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes away. Dean saw the muscles in Cas’ back and arms as he let the shirt fall off his shoulders, and Dean was instantly transfixed. He felt a little flutter in his stomach at the way they moved. It was almost laughable how much they were affecting him. Dean felt like a teenage virgin, getting side tracked by something as simple as another man’s back.

Truth is, Dean had always found Cas’ physicality attractive – even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself yet. And not just Cas, but other guys too. He remembers staring for a little too long at some other boys in the locker room while he was in high school, but he never thought about it for too long, much less acted on those feelings. If John had ever found out… Dean was sure it wouldn’t have gone well.

Despite his father’s prejudices, Dean had always idolized him as a kid, for a lack of any other good role models. John drove a cool car, wore a badass leather jacket, killed monsters, and wasn’t too shabby with the ladies either. Dean remembers wanting to be just like him – the ideal man. Thus, being into anything other than women was strictly out of the question. And for the longest time, Dean had deluded himself into believing that was the truth about himself – that he only desired the opposite sex. All the times he ogled other guys, or thought about them… they were just flukes. Dean was one hundred percent heterosexual.

Then along came Cas.

His startling blue eyes, eternally disheveled hair, and gravelly voice threw Dean through a loop. He told himself it was meaningless - it was the fact that Cas was an angel that was messing with him, and Dean was just intimidated by him. But overtime, the feeling didn’t fade – even when Cas went from “intimidating” to a “weird, dorky little guy” in his eyes. Back then, Dean didn’t know how to explain it. Now, he knew it was attraction – an attraction that eventually grew into love.

And when Dean had left Cas behind in purgatory – no, when Cas _stayed_ behind in purgatory, he reminded himself – he felt grief beyond almost anything he’d ever felt before. He had just lost the man he loved without even realizing he loved him yet. It was practically unbearable.

So Dean did what any healthy person did to get over someone – he rebounded.

Benny Lafitte was one of Dean’s best friends at the time. And he was also the first and only man he had ever been intimate with.

Cas was gone, Sam had practically abandoned him, and the only person Dean felt like he could really depend on was Benny. He was utterly alone, but Benny was there. So, for the first time in his life, Dean gave in. He let himself have what he wanted, and Benny was willing to give it. It had only happened a handful of times, but it felt like a weight off his shoulders. The experience opened his eyes. Dean thought maybe that was when it started - him leaving his old mindset behind, a process that only took him 7 more years.

The sound of Cas unzipping his pants snapped Dean out of his day dream. Dean quickly turned back around to face the wall again, giving the former angel his privacy. He scolded himself internally for acting kinda pervy.

It was known now that they both wanted to be romantically involved, but physically… that was a different story. Cas was in love with him, that much was clear, but who knows if he wanted a sexual side of the relationship? Maybe he didn’t care about sex. Dean would be okay with eventually taking the relationship to that level, but he didn’t think he was really ready for it quite yet.

Sex with Benny was easy, because they weren’t in love. Of course Dean cared for him a lot and considered the vampire like family, but they weren’t enamored. It was more like a friends-with-benefits situation. It was a form of release. Thus, Dean was still able to hold onto the crumbling delusion that he was straight – that he could only love women.

But that wasn’t the case with Cas. With Cas, there was so much more than just lust. And that made things harder for Dean to come to terms with.

At the sound of shuffling, Dean turned back around again to see Cas changed and now fully clothed in Dean’s pajamas. The shirt fit well enough, but the sweats were just a size too big, hanging loose on his hips and pooling slightly at his ankles. Dean found it rather adorable. The sight of Cas in his clothes made his heart flutter.

Dean smiled. “I’ll take you into town tomorrow to get your own clothes,” he commented, almost laughing at the idea of him and Cas on a shopping spree. Dean then dimmed the lights in the room and walked over to the bed, lying down and pulling the covers over himself.

“I would like that,” Cas replied, following Dean’s lead and getting in the bed.

Once they had both settled in, Dean became acutely aware of their proximity. He was lying on his side facing Cas, and Cas was mirroring his position. They were so close Dean could feel the warmth radiating off of Cas’ body, and could feel the heat of his breath. All of the sudden he felt flushed and nervous. He had never been in a situation like this before. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

For what seemed like eternity, the pair just laid there in the near-dark, staring into each other’s eyes and breathing each other’s air. Dean thought he could get lost in Cas’ eyes. He could spend forever just mapping out every detail of his face. Dean thought he’d never seen someone more beautiful – outside _and_ in.

Somehow this only made him more nervous, and it felt like Dean’s heart skipped a beat for what must’ve been the third time that night. Cas must’ve picked up on this, as he shifted a little and brought one of his hands up to rest on Dean’s side in a comforting manner. He would’ve thought this would make him even more anxious, but it had just the opposite affect. The contact was grounding, and calmed his racing heart.

Dean exhaled deeply. He brought his own hand up to cup the side of Cas’ face, absently running his thumb over his stubble. This moment felt like a dream, but at the same time, it felt like the realest thing he’d ever experienced. He reveled in it.

Dean doesn’t know who started it, but suddenly their faces were inching closer and closer together until they were kissing again. Dean pressed his lips against Cas’ and it felt just as good – if not better -than the first time.

It wasn’t rushed or frenzied, but it wasn’t chaste either. It was slow and affectionate, and filled with love. It was perfect.

After a few moments they both pulled back, taking a breath and meeting each other’s gaze once again. There was a small, happy smile on Cas’ face, and Dean was sure he had one too.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him closer until they were pressed against each other in a warm embrace. They slotted together amazingly, as if their bodies were made to hold each other like this. Dean thought it felt so right, being connected with Cas like this. 

“I love you,” he whispered into Cas’ ear, feeling like sleep was finally starting to overtake him.

Dean could feel Cas smile into his shoulder. “I love you too,” he replied.

They both fell deep asleep like that, hugging each other tight and smiling like idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y'all know: there will NOT be any smut in this fic. I simply do not have the capacity to write it, nor do I want to. Especially since some of the people reading this know what my face looks like :) But I do think Dean's sexuality is an important thing to address, bc we all know he definitely struggles with it. So what I just wrote is probably the closest that i'll get to anything ~steamy~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we deserved more happy domestic destiel moments in the show and I stand by that.

Dean woke the next morning feeling amazing.

He slowly opened his eyes, gradually becoming more and more conscious and adjusting to the dim light of the room around him. Dean felt like he’d slept better than he had in months – years, even. He yawned, and was about to roll himself out of bed, but suddenly he became aware of someone’s arms wrapped around him - he wasn’t alone in bed.

The memories of the day before suddenly came flowing back to Dean – Jack, Cas, confessions, hugging, kissing… and he smiled.

They had apparently ended up changing cuddling positions sometime during the night, as Dean had turned on his side, and now Cas was the big spoon. He felt like he could stay here forever, wrapped in Cas’ arms, bodies pressed together. Dean wanted to wake up like this every morning.

Still a little hazy, Dean rolled over in Cas’ arms to face the former angel, and was only slightly surprised to be met with blue eyes, awake and staring back at him.

Dean smiled at him. “Good morning,” he said, sounding rough from sleep.

Cas smiled right back at him. “Good morning,” he replied, his morning voice sounding even gravelly-er than usual, if that was possible. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes I did. Better than I have in a long time, actually,” Dean said, sliding his arms around Cas to hug him back. “How ‘bout you?”

Cas furrowed his brows slightly and let out a “hm,” as if he was thinking his answer over. “Well, I don’t have much experience to draw from,” he started, in a clinical tone, “but from what I know about biological clocks, I believe I slept a sufficient amount of time for a human of my age and physique.”

Dean couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. Of all the angels he could’ve fallen for, he chose the most endearingly analytical one.

“Cas I know I’ve said this before, but… don’t ever change,” Dean replied, looking back up to meet his eyes.

Cas looked a bit confused for a moment, before the expression melted away to soft smile, and he turned his eyes away bashfully.

~~~

Dean and Cas spent a little while longer in bed, just cuddling and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Eventually – against his greater wishes – Dean turned away from Cas to check the time, reading it was almost ten thirty in the morning. At that, they both finally got up and got dressed, Dean letting the former angel borrow another pair of clean clothes.

The pair made breakfast together, with Dean doing most of the work really, just trying to teach Cas what he knew. Man or woman – angel or human – cooking skills were something Dean thought everyone needed.

They enjoyed the morning at the kitchen table with some waffles, bacon, eggs, and toast. Dean brought out syrup for his waffles, but Cas asked if they had any honey instead. He was almost confused by the question at first, but knowing Cas… it didn’t surprise him one bit.

Once they had finished, Dean decided to take Miracle on his morning walk, and asked Cas to tag along. He was excited by the proposition, and was happy to spend more time with the dog. Cas’ growing love for Miracle warmed Dean’s heart – he was even starting to think that the mutt liked Cas more than him now. Usually he’d be jealous, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way.

Outside the bunker, the air was chilly and Dean could see his own breath – it was mid December now, and the weather was typical of Kansas in the winter. The trees were bare, and there was a light dusting of snow covering the ground, which would probably all melt away in the next day or two. The trio made their way along the forest paths surrounding the bunker, quietly enjoying the scenery and the fresh air. Miracle seemed to enjoy what little snow there was, and would often stop and just roll around in it for a few minutes. The sight was absolutely adorable, and Dean and Cas both found themselves laughing.

When they finally got back to the bunker, the tip of Cas’ nose was red from the cold, and there were small snowflakes stuck in his hair. Another thing Dean found utterly adorable.

After that, dean made good on his promise to Cas and took him into town to get him some clothes of his own. They stopped by a few local shops, using Charlie’s unlimited credits cards to have a mini shopping spree. They picked out the usual – some jeans, some flannels, and the necessary undergarments. Dean nearly choked on his own tongue when Cas came up to him and asked “boxers or briefs,” before he realized that the man was just asking which he should buy.

They ended up leaving town with the trunk nearly full of bags. Dean just simply didn’t have the heart to tell Cas “no” to any of the clothes he wanted – including a graphic tee with little bees printed on the front. Saying no was impossible, especially with the way Cas’ face lit up when he saw it.

When they arrived home, it was around three in the afternoon, and Dean declared that he was tired and wanted to stay in for the rest of the day. Cas happily agreed, and they cuddled up close together on the couch and decided to have a movie marathon. Cas, being as oblivious as he was to pop culture, let Dean pick the movies. He thought it over for a while before landing on Indiana Jones. Dean had seen the films almost a thousand times, but he had yet to introduce them to Cas, and was excited to watch them with him. Indiana Jones was one of his favorite series – and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Harrison Ford was Dean’s first male celebrity crush. Nothing at all.

They sat together on the couch, Dean’s arm slung over Cas’ shoulders, with Cas leaning his head onto Dean. It was the epitome of domestic, and he loved every second of it.

By the time that the credits started rolling on The Last Crusade, it was just about ten, and Cas had fallen fast asleep on Dean. He had considered waking Cas up so that they could move to the bedroom, but once again, Dean didn’t have the heart. Plus, he could feel his own sleepiness beginning to take him over. The bedroom was far away from the couch, and with each passing second it felt even farther for his weary legs to walk.

Eventually he ended up falling asleep right next to Cas, both of them snuggled close together. Even Miracle hopped up on the couch and dozed off with them. Overall, Dean had an amazing day – perhaps the best day he’s had in months. And knowing that Sam and Eileen would be coming back later tomorrow, he was sure that the days could only get better.

~~~

The following morning went pretty much the same – besides the ache in Dean’s back from falling asleep on the couch. Getting old sucked sometimes… but honestly, he never even thought he’d make it past thirty five (well, technically he didn’t), much less his forties. So maybe creaky joints and grey hairs were worth it if he could spend his waning years with people he loved.

When the pair managed to extract themselves from each other and the couch, Dean and Cas made themselves breakfast again. It wasn’t nearly as extravagant as the day before, but cookie crunch was actually pretty good – especially since Sam wasn’t back yet to annoy him over his “unhealthy” food choices.

After that they took Miracle for his walk around the woods. Dean was right – the snow did end up melting away over night, leaving behind muddy trails. However, Dean seemed to forget that dogs typically didn’t wear shoes, and once they arrived back, Miracle ended up tracking dirt throughout nearly the whole bunker before either of them realized, leaving little muddy paw prints all over the place.

Dean cursed quite profusely at that, and went to go clean the dog off while Cas started mopping. After he thoroughly scrubbed Miracle - who seemed completely unaware of the mess he’d made, and just happy to get belly rubs – Dean joined Cas in trying to clean the floors. It took them almost an hour to find all the places that the mutt had stampeded his muddy feet over, but they managed.

They both washed their hands in the kitchen sink once they had finished. Cas was drying his hands with a towel, and Dean still had his hands under the water, trying to get the dirt out from his nails. Then a thought occurred to him.

The soap had created a small mound of suds in the sink, and without hesitation Dean picked up some of the suds and flicked them at Cas, landing on the collar of his shirt. He laughed at his own childish actions – what could he say? Dean may be forty-one, but he was still a kid at heart sometimes.

At the sudden assault of dish soap on his shirt, Cas flinched slightly and looked down at the mess the other man had made. He brought his eyes back up to meet Dean’s gaze with a look of utter confusion on his face.

“I don’t understand why this is funny?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Dean’s laughter subsided at that, trying to reel his composure back in. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for a joke to fly right over Cas’ head. “I was just…” he started, feeling embarrassed and down-casting his eyes, “It was just a- a…you know… never mind.”

Still looking away, Dean pulled his hands out of the sink and went to reach for another towel – then he felt a splash of water on his face.

Dean quickly turned his head around to see Cas was now looking at him with a smirk on his face, and that the hands he was previously drying now had soap suds on them again. Dean felt the smile return to his face.

_Oh, so that’s how he’s going to play it_ … Dean thought. _Playing dumb to gain the upper hand? Smart move, but you’ve just declared war._

Within an instant, they were both grabbing handfuls of suds from the sink and flinging them at each other. It was a battle, and neither of them were giving an inch of ground. Water flew through the air. Soap bubbles floated across the kitchen. It was carnage.

When they ran out of soap, they resorted to just splashing water at each other, making a whole ‘nother mess that they would have to clean up again. It was a miracle that neither of them ended up slipping on the wet floor and breaking a bone.

The whole time, their laughs were practically echoing throughout the entire bunker, and they both wore matching smiles that spread nearly from ear to ear. Dean’s shirt was soaked through, and his eyes stung a little from the suds, but it was the most fun he’d had in a long time. And if they ended up making out against the kitchen sink for a while afterwards, well… that fact would stay between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It literally rotted my teeth to write this, but I hope y'all like it. I just want my fav ship to he happy :')


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo. The chapters have officially caught all the way up with me :) prepare for slow updates

After thoroughly exploring each other’s mouths, Dean found that his wet soapy clothes were starting to feel rather uncomfortable. Despite how he’d wanted to continue on the course of action that he was on, a change of clothes was definitely needed, and Cas agreed. Sam and Eileen would probably be back soon anyways, and Dean thought it best if Cas and him didn’t greet the couple looking like they just went through the washing machine.

Together they made their way towards Dean’s room to get a clean pair of clothes. Cas had moved most of his belongings – including his new outfits – into Dean’s room. They came to the mutual agreement that that’s probably where he’d be spending most of his nights now.

When they reached the room, Dean pushed open the door and they both stepped inside. His heart was still racing and there was a huge smile plastered across his face. When Dean looked back at Cas, he saw that the other man looked much the same. There was a blush on his cheeks, and his dark hair was sticking up and pointing in nearly every direction – thanks to their previous activities.

“Now that…” Dean said, as he made his way over to his dresser and pulled out a clean outfit, “…was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

Then he pulled his shirt over his head. Without thinking, he turned back around to face Cas.

The smile that was on Cas’ face dropped within an instant as his eyes traveled down to Dean’s shoulder – specifically the one that still had stitches in it. Dean realized his mistake, and his own smile faltered as well.

“Dean…” Cas said, sounding concerned. He quickly took steps towards the other man to get a closer look at the still-healing wound. “… this is not _just some bruises_ , as you put it.” Cas then brought his hand up – almost as if he was about to try and heal the injury – before stopping at the last second, hesitating, and dropping it back down to his side. He then met Dean’s eyes, a mix of worry and frustration on his face.

Feeling insecure at all the scrutiny, Dean took a step back and pulled the clean shirt over his head, once again concealing his shoulder. “Well,” he started, bringing his left hand up to nervously scratch at the back of his head, “I may have under-exaggerated a little.”

Cas let out an exasperated sigh. “I may be human now, but I’m not an idiot. I can tell that this a serious injury. What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean turned his eyes away. None of his near-death experiences had shaken him to his core like that one had.

“I don’t know. I guess…” he started, unsure of exactly what he should say. “I guess I was just ashamed.” Dean decided on saying the truth. He didn’t want to lie to Cas – not anymore.

At that, Cas tilted his head slightly and squinted eyes, probably trying to understand Dean’s meaning. “Ashamed?” he asked. “Why would you feel ashamed?”

Dean sighed, and Cas led them to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Me and Sam were on a vamp hunt…” he started. From there, he told Cas the whole story. Dean relayed how reckless he was, and how he took every opportunity to throw himself into hunting. He told Cas how they ended up fighting blood sucking clowns, how he got stuck on the rebar, ended up the hospital, and their mutual agreement to stop hunting. It was a painful memory, and sad reminder of how much he almost lost.

“I just felt so lost without you Cas,” Dean continued. By now, his eyes had grown watery and his voice had become quiet. “Chuck was gone, we saved the world, and yet I still wasn’t happy because you weren’t there.” He brought his eyes up to meet Cas’ gaze. The former angel had remained quiet while Dean recounted his story, listening intently to everything he had to say.

“Going out and killing something every opportunity I had,” he proceeded, “was easier than thinking about you. Maybe- maybe deep down I _wanted_ to die…and that’s why I was so careless.” At that, Dean looked back down to the floor. He couldn’t look Cas’ in the eyes anymore, not when he was baring his soul like this. He had to admit he’d gotten better at emotional communication over the years, but by any normal person’s standards, Dean was still quite shit at it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas wince at his words, probably shocked and upset by the severity of them. He pushed himself closer to Dean on the bed, and brought his hand up to his – uninjured – shoulder, trying to comfort him through the contact. The warmth on his arm was a reminder to Dean that Cas was _here_ and _alive,_ and that that painful time in his life was over. But the memories still hurt, none the less.

“Dean…” Cas spoke up, seemingly trying to interrupt Dean’s spiraling thoughts. But he couldn’t let him do that yet. He needed to finish – he needed to say this.

“But now,” Dean continued, “I realize that if I died, I woulda just been spitting on your grave. You gave up everything for me Cas – and I mean _everything_. You died to save my life, and I almost threw it all away not even a few weeks later.” He felt his voice crack on the last couple words, and a tear slip down his cheek.

“So yeah, I was ashamed. I was ashamed of how weak and stupid I was to let myself give up on something that you fought so hard for.”

Eyes still trained on the floor, Dean let out a deep exhale. It took everything in him not to start sobbing right on the spot.

Then Dean felt Cas’ hand on his cheek, turning his head up to force him to look at the former angel. Cas looked near heartbroken, his blue eyes beginning to water as well. His other hand came up to cup Dean’s face, using his thumb to wipe away the fallen tears. The gesture was so gentle, Dean would’ve never guessed that Cas used to be a feared warrior if he hadn’t already known.

“Dean,” Cas repeated - and this time he wasn’t going to interrupt. “I have know you to be many things over the years, but weak is _not_ one of them.” There was conviction in his voice, as if he was trying to will Dean to believe him.

“You are the strongest man I’ve ever met, not because you’ve never faltered, but because after each time that you did, you managed to keep going – to keep fighting. You are flawed, and you’ve made mistakes, but that does not make you weak. It makes you human.”

The complete surety in Cas’ disposition nearly took his breath away. Dean could tell that he meant every single word of what he said.

“You have nothing to be ashamed about,” Cas added, as they both pulled each other into a tight embrace. Dean had felt so vulnerable, but Cas’ strong arms around him made him feel safer than he’s ever been.

_Does he really believe that?_ He thought to himself. Despite the devil-may-care attitude he always presented to the world, Dean had always seen himself as a pathetic, broken shell of a man. It didn’t matter how many people he saved, the one’s that he lost always loomed over him, reminding him of his failures. But Cas didn’t see that. Somehow, Cas still managed see what little good there was left in Dean, and accept him. He recognized his shortcomings, but he stood by him anyway. It baffled Dean, and yet he’d never felt more loved.

Cas then pulled away from the hug, before leaning their foreheads together. Dean closed his eyes and accepted the contact. He then felt one of Cas’ hands move from his face to graze his fingertips over his shirt, right above where the stitches were. The pressure didn’t hurt, but it was just enough for Dean to feel the touch.

“You are still beautiful…” Cas whispered, in a such a quiet, gentle tone that Dean thought maybe he imagined it. “… still Dean Winchester.”

He felt his breath hitch. With those last three words, he knew he wasn’t imagining it. Dean opened his eyes, locking his green ones with Cas’ sky-blue ones. Slowly, Cas then leaned towards him, and their lips connected with a kiss. It was short but sweet, and after a moment they embraced each other in a comforting hug once again. Dean leaned his head into Cas shoulder, and they stayed that way for a while.

~~~

Dean doesn’t know how long they stayed there, sitting on the edge of the bed, cradled in each other’s arms. It had been so long since he’d been able to indulge himself in someone else’s contact like this – probably since Lisa - that he almost forgot what it felt like. Dean had been so touch-starved for intimacy, and he hadn’t even realized it until he was able to hold Cas again. Until he could feel his stubble against his cheek, and run his fingers through his dark hair again. It was like a breath of fresh air that calmed every nerve in his body. Of course, he’d slept with multiple women over the years, but it wasn’t the same. It was purely physical. A simple hug from his angel meant more to him than all the pleasurable one-night stands that those women could give him. He thought he could stay wrapped around Cas like this forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough – it still wouldn’t make up for all the lost time.

After his breathing finally evened out and his eyes dried of tears, Dean brought his head up from its resting place on Cas’ shoulder, and glanced over at the clock on his nightstand – reading that it was getting to be late in the afternoon. Sam and Eileen would probably be back soon, and neither of them had finished changing yet. In light of their heavy conversation, he had completely forgotten how disheveled they both looked. If Dean and Cas greeted the couple in the state that they were in now, Sam was sure to make a lot of incorrect assumptions about what they had been getting up to – well, maybe not _entirely_ incorrect.

Reluctantly, Dean extricated himself from Cas’ embrace and gave him a warm smile before standing from the bed.

“The happy couple should be here any minute, so we should probably finish changing,” he said as he pulled a clean pair of jeans from his dresser.

“Oh yes – right,” Cas replied, suddenly being reminded of their original objective in the bedroom.

Soon, Dean was re-dressed in his usual t-shirt, flannel, and worn-jeans combo, with Cas having thrown on a clean outfit as well. He had chosen a pair of jeans too, with a dark short-sleeve top and a blue button-up over it. Dean didn’t think he’d ever get over just how much he liked seeing Cas in blue.

They walked together to the front of the bunker, and just before they made it to the war room Dean heard the metallic _clang_ of the front door opening and closing. He picked up the pace a little, and Cas did too.

“Dean, you there? C- Cas?” He heard the familiar voice of his little brother call.

Before he could even respond, a huge mass of yellow fur shot past Cas and him, bounding towards the source of the voice. Dean let out a laugh at Miracle’s excitement.

The two finally walked through the doorway, and standing at the top of the landing was Sam and Eileen, duffel bags thrown over their shoulders. Dean really forgot how tall his younger brother was until he stood next to average sized women…

The couple noticed Dean and Cas upon their entrance to the war room, and both their faces broke out in joyous smiles. Sam’s eyes lit up when he saw Cas, happy to see him alive and safe.

“Welcome back!” Dean called up to them, his own happiness evident in the raised pitch of his voice.

Excited, Sam went down the steps two at a time, with Eileen following behind in a slower, safer manner. Miracle was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for them, tapping his paws and wagging his tail so quickly Dean thought it might fly off. Sam gave him a few quick pats before making his way over to Dean and Cas, who met him halfway. Eileen stayed back for a second to greet the dog, who was overjoyed to make the acquaintance of someone new.

“Hey man,” Sam said, throwing his duffel on the table pulling Dean in for a quick one-armed hug, which he returned. When they pulled away, Sam turned to Cas, looking relieved, and Cas looked just as happy to finally see the younger Winchester once again. “Cas…” he said, pulling the former angel in for a tight hug. “Dean told me what happened. I’m so glad you’re back man, it wasn’t the same here without you.”

After a few moments more, they pulled away, Sam giving Cas a couple friendly pats on the shoulder. “I’m glad to back as well. It’s good to see you Sam,” Cas replied, sounding genuinely delighted. Sometimes Dean forgot that other people cared for Cas just as much as he did, if only in a different way.

Then Eileen finally made her way over, with Miracle right by her side – he must’ve taken a liking to her as well. She threw her bag on the table next to Sam’s, and walked towards Dean, beckoning him into a hug. “Hey Dean!” she said, her deaf accent recognizable immediately.

“Hey Eileen,” he replied, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her for a quick embrace. “Good to have you back again… oh!” Suddenly he remembered that she couldn’t hear him – even if she could read lips – and tried signing the words to her as best he could. He had decided to try learning a little bit of ASL after Sam and him first met Eileen, but he was still garbage at it. If the two were really serious about their relationship, Dean was definitely going to have to learn more.

Eileen chuckled fondly at Dean’s weak attempt at sign language, but she seemed to mostly grasp his meaning. “You’re getting better at that,” she responded, a warm smile on her face. “It’s still pretty bad, but better!”

Dean could feel himself blush in embarrassment, but they both still laughed together lightheartedly.

Eileen then walked over to give Cas a hug as well, and they exchanged friendly greetings. It made Dean feel nearly giddy with joy to have them all here. He was always happiest when he was with family. They’d lost a lot of their family over the years – mom, dad, Jo, Ellen, Bobby, the list goes on – but having these three with him now, and knowing that others were out there safe… it felt like a win. If only Chuck was around so Dean could shove it in his face.

Just then he felt his stomach growl.

“Alright,” Dean announced, “who’s up for some grub?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know I had to include that line. YOU JUST KNOW IT. The fact that it was in the script literally kills me.
> 
> Idk how many more chapters I'll be adding, but I think we're closing in on the end soon.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a slow writer, I'm sorry :')

After discovering that the fridge was empty of practically anything that could pass as a meal, the four decided they should just go out to eat. After all, it was a celebratory occasion. Dean suggested a local burger joint downtown, and everyone seemed pleased enough with the idea – especially Cas. Dean didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up at the idea of ground beef.

Dean gave Miracle his doggy dinner before heading out, and they all piled into the impala. The ride went without much conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. At least not for Dean, it was quite the opposite. With the hum of his baby beneath his feet, Led Zeppelin playing on the radio, and the promise of good food ahead, how could he be anything other than happy?

They arrived at the joint and were all seated in a booth near the back, Cas and Dean sitting next to each other on one side and Sam and Eileen sitting across from them. The restaurant was one of Dean’s favorites that he’d ever been to. It was local and family owned, but it wasn’t dingy or a “hole-in-the-wall” kind of place. The interior was a bit retro, but not in the tacky way. It felt genuine and homey, especially since Dean had been there so many times that he’d become one of the regulars. Most of the waiters and waitresses knew him by now, including Jill – the waitress who was serving them now.

“Hey Dean, nice to see you back again,” she said with a smile as she stepped up to the booth, pen and paper at the ready to take their orders. “What can I get you and your friends?”

Dean smiled back at her. “Hey Jill, I’m gonna get the bacon cheeseburger…”

The rest of them ordered their food, Eileen and Cas getting something relatively normal while Sam ordered the veggie tofu burger. _Gross_ , Dean thought as Sam gave the waitress his request. _Something like that doesn’t even deserve the title of burger._

Along with their food, they also got milkshakes – Dean went with chocolate, Cas got Strawberry, Eileen picked Oreo, and Sam of course got a seltzer water instead. When all the food and drinks arrived, Dean swore it was the most appetizing meal he had ever laid eyes on. And going by his previous experiences at the restaurant, it was probably going to taste just as good.

Within moments they were all digging in, and Dean was right – it was just as amazing as last time.

As they ate their food, they relaxed into fun conversation. They told jokes, told stories, and remembered good times together. Dean recounted embarrassing stories from Sam’s childhood to Eileen, who seemed to find them funny to no end – Sam on the other hand only rolled his eyes. As long as Eileen was smiling though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. Dean tried his best to translate as much as he could into ASL for Eileen’s benefit, but it wasn’t quite working out for him. Sam was far more advanced than him, and when Cas joined in the conversation, he started using sign language too. Dean wondered when and where he had the time to learn, but didn’t bother to ask. It was probably an angel thing.

While they were all conversing, Dean took notice of Sam and Eileen’s interactions. If he had any doubts before that they were head over heels for each other – which he didn’t – they were entirely gone now. I mean, Sam learned practically an entire _language_ just for her. And if that wasn’t enough proof, the heart eyes that his little brother and Eileen were making at each other could be spotted from miles away. They shared food, laughed at each other’s incredibly bad jokes, and Sam slung his arm over the woman’s shoulders while she leaned into his side. They were so grossly in love it made Dean sick. But at the same time, he was happy for them. It was rare that hunters could settle down or find someone that they could be with, and Dean was glad that they were both able to do that. He always thought that Sam and him were never getting out of “the life,” but now that they had, he wondered why they didn’t try so hard to get out sooner.

His thoughts were interrupted by the press of Cas’ leg against his own. Dean turned to look at the former angel and saw that he was staring back, giving him a gentle smile. His thoughts must’ve been showing on his face. Cas had never been good with social cues, but he’d always been able to read Dean like an open book from the moment they met. A memory flashed briefly through his head.

_“What’s the matter…? You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”_

He saw right through Dean’s brave-face in that barn, and has ever since. Maybe that’s part of why Dean fell for him so hard. For a moment, he started thinking he didn’t deserve Cas – with his kind heart and his caring soul. Cas was a far better man than him, and was worthy of someone better. But Dean pushed those thoughts aside quickly – if there’s one thing that he learned over the years, it’s that nobody gets exactly what they deserve. Good people die young and bad people get rich, and there isn’t really a way to stop it. But this time he got Cas, and whether Dean deserved him or not didn’t matter. Cas was by his side and he wasn’t letting him go. Not again.

Dean subtly brought his hand beneath the table to rest palm-down on the seat of the booth, inviting the former angel to do the same. Cas got the message, and brought his own hand down to interlock his fingers with Dean’s. Sam and Eileen were having their own side conversation at the moment, so he wasn’t worried about them noticing. Dean wasn’t ready to be as out-and-proud with his and Cas’ relationship as the couple sitting across from them, but for now, small moments like this would do. Dean thought maybe he was grossly in love too.

~~~

When they arrived back at the bunker, Miracle was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for them – tail wagging and paws tapping. Dean doesn’t doubt that he could smell the left overs from a mile away.

They all started making their way towards the back of the bunker, and Dean was surprised when Miracle didn’t follow them. He was usually eager to jump on them the moment they got home. Instead he kept his position at the stairs. When he let out a small whine, Dean realized it was because he needed to go out.

“Aww no, not now buddy, it’s cold outside!” Dean said back to the dog, despite the fact that he wouldn’t understand. Miracle still stayed at the stairs, giving him incredibly persuasive puppy-dog eyes that rivaled Sam’s. He let out another small whine, and Dean gave an exasperated sigh.

“Ugh, fine.” Of course, he would’ve taken the mutt out anyway. Dean just didn’t want him to get spoiled. Had to keep him on his toes.

“I’ll take him for a walk with you,” He heard his younger brother say. Dean turned to look at Sam, who seemed unusually eager at the situation. It was something in his eyes, but Dean was feeling good today and didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Yeah sure,” he responded. Then he felt a hand on his arm, and looked to see Cas.

“I can take those back to the kitchen,” he sad, gesturing to the bag of left overs in Dean’s hand. He handed him the food, and Cas and Eileen made their way inside while Sam and Dean headed out with Miracle.

Dean was right – it was freezing outside. There was frost covering the ground, and a wind that made his jacket feel obsolete. When he exhaled he could see the little white cloud of his breath in front of his face. The light from the moon reflected off some of the ice and slush on the ground, making the forest around them almost sparkle. If wasn’t so damn _cold_ maybe he would be able to appreciate it.

Luckily, they didn’t have to walk that far. As soon as Miracle did what he had to do, Dean was turning around and heading straight back to the bunker. Sam didn’t seem to mind the chill as much – maybe his gigantic body generated more heat or something.

As they walked, they remained mostly quiet, the only sounds being Miracle’s little sniffs and the crunch of gravel under their feet. Sam seemed antsy, however – as if he had something on his mind. They knew each other well enough to know when the other wanted to get something off their chest.

“So,” Sam finally spoke up as they were walking. “Cas is back.”

Dean turned to looked at his brother and rolled his eyes. “Well aren’t you a sharp one, Sherlock.” He wondered where Sam was going with this, though he already had somewhat of an idea.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah whatever,” he responded. “I was just wondering… how you’re feeling, ya know?” There was hint of apprehension in his tone - which was founded, considering the way Dean had sometimes previously reacted to the “feelings” conversation.

But Dean was having a good day. Several in a row, in fact. So how was he feeling? Great. Amazing. Alive again. Stupidly in love. He didn’t have any reason to lie this time, because the truthful answer to Sam’s question was also a good answer – which rarely ever occurred.

“I’m feeling great, Sam,” Dean replied. “There are no more monster fights, you and Eileen are happy, and now Cas is back… how else could I feel?” he asked rhetorically.

“Right,” Sam responded, smiling softly and looking down at where his feet were walking. “I feel pretty much the same way.”

Dean could tell that Sam’s curiosity wasn’t completely sated by the way he started playing with the hem of his sleeve, and that he probably had more he wanted to say. _Jesus, what is it with us Winchester’s and dancing around the point?_ He thought.

Dean decided he’d help speed the process along. “You got something else on you mind?” he asked.

Sam then looked back up at him, slight confusion on his face. He was probably wondering how Dean picked up on his tells that he was so _expertly_ hiding.

“Well…” he started, sounding unsure. “I was just wondering if- if you said it back.”

Dean squinted at his brother, puzzled by the question. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sam swallowed, looking a bit nervous. “Before I left, you told me what happened to Cas… and about what he said… and you sort of implied that it wasn’t one-sided, so… did you say it back to him?”

Dean had stopped dead in his tracks. Thankfully, Miracle had stopped too in order to sniff at a tree stump – if he hadn’t the dog would surely have just pulled him right over.

He really didn’t want to have this conversation. Like really, _really_ didn’t want to. Talking about this stuff with Cas was one thing, but Sam? That’s a whole different story. Sam looked up to Dean – at least figuratively - and letting him in on one of his deepest secrets made Dean feel like he was letting Sam down. Dean was older, he was the protector. He was supposed to be Sam’s role model growing up – he wasn’t supposed to be soft and emotional. Dean had needed to be strong for Sam. Admitting his vulnerability wasn’t an option.

But Sam’s not a little kid anymore, and Dean’s not his brother’s keeper – even if he might always feel that way. Sam’s a grown man, and so is Dean. Things have changed since they were young, themselves especially. He wouldn’t be protecting Sam if he lied, he’d just be hindering himself. Maybe being strong isn’t the same as being infallible anymore. Maybe being strong is about honesty.

If that’s the case, then Dean was weak. But he was ready to start becoming stronger. Step one was being truthful with himself – and with Sam. He was tired of lies anyway.

Dean let a small smile form on his face.

“Yeah Sam, I said it back.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his little brother go deadly still. Dean turned to look at him, and Sam had an expression of utter disbelief on his face. It was gratifying to see how much the little confession absolutely rattled Sam. He probably expected Dean to get defensive and start changing the subject – and honestly, Dean thought he might do that too at first.

“Wait, really?” Sam finally said, sounding nearly giddy. “I knew it!”

They continued walking, and Dean scoffed at the other man, who was practically skipping with glee.

“So are you guys together now? Like a couple? I mean honestly you two have been doing this weird eye-sex thing for years so I’m not that surprised but now that it’s official it’s totally…” Sam continued babbling on about how he was so happy for them and how he had actually known all along and blah blah blah. Dean was ready to start being more authentic, but this? Sam’s eagerness was a little too much to handle at the moment.

“Hey!” Dean finally interrupted his rambling brother. “Why don’t you do that thing where you just stop talking?”

He looked back at Dean, appearing offended. But Sam listened anyway, and stopped speaking _. Thank Jack_ , he thought. If he had gone on any longer, his overly enthusiastic ally-ship would’ve given Dean a damn headache. Yeah he loved Cas, but he wasn’t about to start wearing rainbow buttons or anything.

Quickly and quietly, they made their way back to the bunker, Miracle in tow. Even all this heart warming talk didn’t change the fact that it was still forty degrees outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this good? IDK. Sam has always been the biggest destiel shipper of all time, so ofc I had to show a little bit of that.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this is the final chapter! enjoy :)

When the brothers got back from walking Miracle, they found Cas and Eileen in the kitchen, sitting at the table and deep in conversation. Dean couldn’t understand what they were saying in ASL, but when Sam and him walked in the room, they both stopped abruptly, and Eileen let out a small giggle – so Dean could hazard a guess.

The four of them ended up spending the rest of the night at the kitchen table, leisurely sipping on some beers and falling into easy conversation. It felt… nice. Dean felt like he really had a family for the first time since he was little. Of course, he had always had family, but this time he wasn’t scared for it. This family could be _permanent_. For so long they had to look over their shoulders, wondering if today was the day that they’d finally lose everything – that everyone he loved might slip through his fingers.

But that wasn’t the case anymore. They were free. Dean could enjoy spending time with his loved ones without worrying that it was the last time he’d ever see them before some monster took them out. Sitting at the kitchen table with Sam, Cas, and Eileen… it felt solid. It was something he could hold onto without using an iron grip.

It almost reminded Dean of the time he had been captured by a djinn, and “granted” his most desired wish – a normal life. One where mom was never killed, Sam and him never became hunters, and monsters to them were just a thing of fiction. Obviously there were drastic differences between the fabricated dreamscape and the current reality, but one thing was overwhelmingly similar – the sense of peace. The utter normalcy of it. In that false world, they worried about ordinary things like birthdays and engagements, not the apocalypse. There was absolutely nothing normal about his actual life, but Dean could see himself moving towards one. He could see himself packing up his shotguns and salt rounds, and moving into suburbia with Cas. Dean almost laughed at the idea of it – _you’re having a chick-flick moment_ , he thought to himself – but in all honesty, it was everything he wanted. And he was starting to think that maybe he could have it.

Later that night, after they had all said goodnight to each other, Dean and Cas were in his room, getting ready to go to sleep. Dean was fixing the sheets on the bed, when a question popped into the forefront of his mind. He had been thinking about since Sam and him got back from walking the dog, but he put it on the back burner for later. _I guess now is later_ , he thought.

“So,” Dean started, “what were you and Eileen talking about while me and Sam were out?”

Cas, who was putting on a night shirt, turned to face Dean. He stayed quiet for a moment, darting his eyes across the floor as if he was searching for an answer there.

“Um…”

Dean raised his eyebrows at him, an indication to keep going.

“We were discussing the current nature of politics,” Cas concluded, sounding resolute in his response.

Dean huffed a laugh and shook his head. Cas’ tells were as obvious as the head on his shoulders.

“Cas, no offense buddy, but you’re not that great a liar.”

At that Castiel quirked his head and squinted his eyes, looking as if he had, in fact, taken offense to the statement.

“That is not true, I once successfully deceived and betrayed both you and your brother,” he replied, sounding almost proud of his ability to perjure.

Dean felt his mouth fall slightly agape at the retort, and at the stinging reminder of that painful part of their past. “Well first of all,” Dean shot back “you weren’t _that_ successful. And second, that’s not the point.”

Dean crossed his arms at the other man, trying to express that he was serious about this. Dean was honestly just a bit curious at first, but now that Cas had purposefully tried to evade the truth, he was invested and needed to know what was worth the deception.

Cas must’ve picked up on the fact that Dean wasn’t going to relent, and let out an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought you might get angry…” he said, resignation in his tone.

_Uh oh_ , Dean thought. _That’s never a good way to start a conversation._

“… but Eileen knows that we have romantic relations.”

Dean dropped his arms at that, and instead gave a confused look to the former angel. “What?”

Cas was hesitant to meet Dean’s eyes. “When we were alone, she asked if you and me were a–“ he brought his hands up to make air quotes “-couple, and I tried to tell her no, but she saw through my dishonesty.”

_Oh,_ he thought, _that makes sense_. Dean was starting to understand why Cas might not have wanted to tell him, and he felt his expression soften.

“I’m sorry Dean,” Cas continued. “I know you didn’t want her or Sam to learn that yet, but Eileen already had it figured out. For a person with impaired hearing, her deductive skills are far superior to most.” The former angel looked and sounded truly remorseful.

Dean took a moment to soak in all the information, before laughing – not directly at Cas, just at himself for getting so worked up over something simple.

“It’s fine Cas, I’m not mad.”

The other man furrowed his brows, looking simultaneously surprised and confused. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah it’s alright,” Dean responded, climbing into the bed and sitting up against the head board. “Actually, Sam knows too now.”

Somehow Cas managed to look even more confused at that, and climbed into the bed next to Dean, mirroring his position against the headboard. “You told him? I thought you didn’t want him to know”

Dean pulled the covers over them up to their waists. “I wasn’t planning on telling him,” he responded, “if Sam hadn’t asked me I wouldn’t have said anything. But once he did… I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t feel like lying.”

Cas turned to look at Dean, and Dean moved his eyes to meet his gaze back.

“Lies have never gotten us anywhere good, and I didn’t want to add another to the list. I’m honestly just tired of them.”

He meant every word of it. The deceptions between himself and Sam over the years had gotten them more trouble than they were worth. First there was the demon deal, then Ruby, and then the demon blood. And once Cas was added to the mix, it was just fuel to the fire. Sam lied about himself after losing his soul, and then Cas lied about saving him and working with Crowley… the collection of deceit that the Winchester’s had stockpiled over the years was nearly endless – and that didn’t even account for all the times they had lied about their feelings. Dean was old now – at least for a hunter – and didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with dishonesty woven into it.

Cas’ perplexed expression had melted into one of sympathy, and a small smile graced his face. “I understand,” he replied. He then brought his hand down between the two of them, and interlocked his fingers with Dean’s. “I’ll promise not to lie to you if you promise me the same.”

Dean could help but return the smile. “I promise.”

He brought their entwined hands up to place a gentle kiss to Cas’ knuckles, before bringing them back down. Dean had never thought himself to be so sappy and sentimental, but when it came to the former angel of the lord sitting next to him, he just couldn’t stop the outpouring of affection that he felt. Cas deserved someone who would give him the world, and Dean intended to be that for him. He leaned his head towards Cas and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss, which Cas immediately reciprocated. He brought his hand up to cup the side of Dean’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. It didn’t matter how many times they kissed; Dean felt butterflies every time.

When they broke apart, Dean opened his eyes and looked back into Cas’. There was a soft expression on his face, and he wanted to capture it and remember it forever.

“Ya know even if we hadn’t told Sam and Eileen, I think the fact that we sleep in the same room woulda tipped them off sooner or later.”

At that, Cas let out a laugh, and he felt his smile grow even wider. Cas’ laugh was a rare thing, but it was starting to become more common with each passing day. It was like music to his ears.

They both then pushed themselves down until they were lying flat on the bed, heads resting on their pillows. Dean leaned over and dimmed the lamp on the nightstand before turning back and wrapping his arms around Cas, flush against his back. He tipped his forehead onto the other man’s shoulder and exhaled deeply. This was probably the most content he had ever been in his life.

Dean wanted to spend every night like this, from now until the day he died – for the final time. Arms around Cas, or Cas’ arms around him, or both of them around each other. It didn’t matter. As long as Dean was with him, it would never matter. As long as he could look into his angel’s eyes, see his smile, and hear his laugh, nothing else would ever compare. Castiel was it for him. He was his home.

“Goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOO what did you think? I'm pretty sure i'm gonna end it here, but its possible I might feel like adding an epilogue later. But for now, we can consider this fic complete. Hooray! thanks for sticking with me through my self-indulgent therapy writing :)

**Author's Note:**

> So??????? How was it?????? Your feedback is much appreciated!!


End file.
